


Episode II - Attack of the Rogues

by CirelondielWildstar



Series: Star Warriors Saga [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: All Characters Are Cats, Alternate Universe, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 77,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26125738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirelondielWildstar/pseuds/CirelondielWildstar
Summary: *This is a retelling of the popular "Star Wars" franchise as "Warrior Cats"-style storiesThere is unrest among the cats of the Great Gathering.  Several Clans have declared their intentions to leave the Tribe of Gathering.This separatist movement, under the leadership of the mysterious Birdclaw, has made it difficult for the limited number of LightClan cats to maintain peace and order.Berryheart, the former leader and current mediator of ForestClan, is returning to the Gathering Place to vote on the critical issue of creating an army for the Tribe of Gathering to assist the overwhelmed LightClan....
Relationships: C-3PO & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, R2-D2 & Anakin Skywalker
Series: Star Warriors Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700470
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	1. List of Allegiances

**Author's Note:**

> And here we go again! The first proper chapter will be put up on Sunday along with (hopefully) the full number of chapters to expect. In the meanwhile, here is the carefully compiled list of named characters for this story.

Allegiances

DARKCLAN

Leader **Darkshadow** – shadowy, unknown tom _[Darth Sidious – Sith Lord]_

Apprentice, **Darkbird** – unknown tom _[Darth Tyranus – Sith Lord]_

LIGHTCLAN

Leader **Lightstar** – small grey tabby tom with green eyes _[Yoda – Jedi Master]_

Deputy **Violetlight** – dark brown tom with hazel eyes _[Mace Windu – Jedi Master]_

Medicine Cat **Glowlight** – small, long-furred yellow and white she-cat with blue eyes _[Jocasta Nu – Jedi Master]_

Apprentice, **Sappaw** – grey tom with green eyes and white right foreleg _[SP-4 – Jedi Analysis Droid]_

Council Cats **Deeplight** – dark tortoiseshell she-cat with brown eyes _[Depa Billaba – Jedi Master]_

**Eellight** – dark grey tom with blue eyes and white hind paws _[Eeth Koth – Jedi Master]_

**Palelight** – tall white tom with green eyes _[Ki-Adi-Mundi – Jedi Master]_

**Raccoonlight** – brown and white tom with hazel eyes _[Plo Koon – Jedi Master]_

**Tinlight** – grey tom with green eyes _[Saesee Tiin – Jedi Master]_

**Slatelight** – grey and white tom with hazel eyes _[Even Piell – Jedi Master]_

**Corallight** – brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes _[Adi Gallia – Jedi Master]_

 **Maplelight** – brown and white tabby she-cat with blue eyes _[Shaak Ti – Jedi Master]_

**Volelight** – light brown tom with green eyes _[Coleman Trebor – Jedi Master]_

**Frostlight** – silver-grey tabby tom with grey eyes _[Oppo Rancisis – Jedi Master]_

Sages **Yaklight** – short, long-furred grey she-cat with green eyes _[Yaddle – Jedi Master]_

**Bearlight** – dark brown tom with brown eyes and long dark whiskers _[Sora Bulq – Jedi Knight]_

Apprentice, **Gullpaw** – grey tabby tom with blue eyes and white paws _[Galdos Stouff – Jedi Padawan]_

**Streamlight** – blue and white tom with dark brown eyes _[Kit Fisto – Jedi Knight]_

 **Echolight** – grey tabby tom with green eyes _[Echuu Shen – Jedi Master]_

Apprentice, **Leafpaw** – grey tom with brown eyes _[Stam Reath – Jedi Padawan]_

 **Longlight** – golden tabby tom with blue eyes _[Cin Drallig – Jedi Master]_

**Talllight** – brown she-cat with hazel eyes and long legs _[Yarael Poof – Jedi Master]_

Apprentice, **Gnatpaw** – grey she-cat with hazel eyes _[Naat Reath – Jedi Padawan]_

**Serpentlight** – silver-grey she-cat with green eyes _[Luminara Unduli – Jedi Master]_

Apprentice, **Bearpaw** – yellow she-cat with blue eyes _[Barriss Offee – Jedi Padawan]_

 **Brownlight** – brown tabby tom with hazel eyes _[Agen Kolar – Jedi Master]_

Apprentice, **Tanpaw** – light brown and white tom with blue eyes _[Tan Yuster – Jedi Padawan]_

**Coallight** – dark grey tabby tom with copper eyes and white chest _[Coleman Kcaj – Jedi Master]_

 **Mouselight** – ginger tabby tom with amber eyes and white paws _[Sta-Den Eekin – Jedi Master]_

**Sliplight** – white tom with brown eyes _[Eno Cordova – Jedi Master]_

Apprentice, **Mantispaw** – dark brown tabby she-cat with brown eyes _[Cere Junda – Jedi Padawan]_

**Ryelight** – brown tabby tom with hazel eyes _[Ekim Ryelli – Jedi Master]_

Apprentice, **Gleampaw** – golden tabby tom with green eyes and white paws _[Lumas Etima – Jedi Padawan]_

**Gnatlight** – grey tabby tom with green eyes and white left back-paw _[Nat-Sem – Jedi Master]_

 **Rocklight** – black tom with dark brown eyes _[Roth-Del Masona – Jedi Master]_

Warriors **Yellowfoot** – yellow tabby tom with green eyes and white paws and chest-fur _[Pablo-Jill – Jedi Knight]_

 **Sunleap** – light brown tom with blue eyes and white left forepaw _[Obi-Wan Kenobi – Jedi Knight]_

Apprentice, **Skypaw** – light brown tom with blue eyes and white paws _[Anakin Skywalker – Jedi Padawan]_

**Mossflash** – grey tabby tom with blue eyes and white tail-tip _[Joclad Danva – Jedi Knight]_

 **Shortwing** – black, gold, and white she-cat with green eyes _[Sar Labooda – Jedi Knight]_

**Steadystep** – grey tabby tom with green eyes and white paws _[Jaro Topal – Jedi Knight]_

**Alderpelt** – brown tabby she-cat with dark blue eyes _[Stass Allie – Jedi Master]_

 **Quietstep** – pale brown tabby tom with dark green eyes _[Quinlan Vos – Jedi Knight]_

 **Bluetail** – blue-grey she-cat with amber eyes _[Aayla Secura – Jedi Knight]_

 **Swanclaw** – black and white she-cat with brown eyes _[Bultar Swan – Jedi Knight]_

 **Nickedtail** – light brown tabby tom with grey eyes and short tail _[Nicanas Tassu – Jedi Knight]_

 **Softstorm** – tan tom with hazel eyes and short tail _[Sephjet Josall – Jedi Knight]_

 **Jaggedsplash** – brown tabby she-cat with dark blue eyes _[Sarrissa Jeng – Jedi Knight]_

 **Firbark** – tan tabby tom with amber eyes _[Fi-Ek Sirch – Jedi Knight]_

 **Redquill** – dark brown tom with brown eyes _[Que-Mars Redath-Gom – Jedi Knight]_

 **Tanscratch** – cream tabby tom with grey eyes _[Ichi-Tan Micoda – Jedi Knight]_

 **Roansight** – brown and white tabby tom with blue eyes _[Roan Shryne – Jedi Knight]_

Apprentice, **Silverpaw** – grey tabby she-cat with green eyes _[Shryne’s First Apprentice]_

 **Tarclaw** – brown tom with amber eyes and white tail-tip _[Tarados Gon]_

 **Quillclaw** – tan and white she-cat with brown eyes _[Khaat Qiyn – Jedi Knight]_

Apprentice, **Birdpaw** – light grey tom with brown eyes _[Bairdon Jace – Jedi Padawan]_

Younglings **Tawnykit** – pale yellow tabby she-cat with blue eyes _[Ahsoka Tano – Jedi Youngling]_

**Dunekit** – brown tabby tom with blue eyes _[Caleb Dume – Jedi Youngling]_

**Stingkit** – light ginger tom with green eyes and white tail-tip _[Cal Kestis – Jedi Youngling]_

**Trillkit** – black she-cat with green eyes _[Trilla Suduri – Jedi Youngling]_

**Tinykit** – ginger and white tom with one blue eye and one grey eye _[BD-1 – Jedi Droid]_

 **Gemkit** – black, tan, and white she-cat with brown eyes _[Mari Amithest – Jedi Youngling]_

 **Jaykit** – brown and white tom with brown eyes _[J. K. Burtola – Jedi Youngling]_

 **Ashkit** – red and white tabby she-cat with blue eyes and large ears _[Ashla – Jedi Youngling]_

 **Lizardkit** – tan tom with green eyes and white forepaws _[Chian – Jedi Youngling]_

 **Sandkit** – cream tom with brown eyes _[Saylind Donels – Jedi Youngling]_

 **Hopkit** – grey tom with blue eyes and white tail-tip _[Jempa – Jedi Youngling]_

 **Lionkit** – light brown tom with hazel eyes and white paws and belly _[Liam – Jedi Youngling]_

 **Flickerkit** – white she-cat with dark brown eyes and light brown ears and tail _[Lexa Tcheil – Jedi Youngling]_

 **Chirpkit** – white tom with amber eyes and brown spots on his hindquarters _[Shryne’s Second Apprentice]_

TRIBE OF GATHERING

Leader **Foxstar** – ginger tom with white paws and blue eyes _[Sheev Palpatine – Supreme Chancellor]_

Deputy **Loudear** – blue tabby tom with brown eyes and large ears _[Mas Amedda – Senate Vice Chair]_

Medicine Cat **Slyfoot** – black and white tom with grey eyes _[Sly Moore – Aide]_

Den-Guards **Duckfeather** – yellow tabby tom with green eyes and white back paws _[Dar Wac – Aide]_

**Gooseheart** – cream she-cat with grey eyes _[Uv Gizen – Aide]_

Member Groups **ForestClan** _[Naboo]_

 **MountainClan** _[Alderaan]_

 **HillClan** _[Chandrilla]_

 **CanyonClan** _[Malastare]_

 **CycloneClan** _[Glee Anselm]_

 **DryClan** _[Raioballo Sector]_

 **Tribe of Deep Waters** _[Gungans]_

 **LakeClan** _[Ryloth]_

TRIBE OF SHADOWS

Leader **Birdclaw** – dark grey tabby tom with dark brown eyes _[Count Dooku – Former Jedi]_

Deputy **Timberflash** – dark brown tabby tom with green eyes _[Wat Tambor – Separatist Leader]_

Member Groups **FieldClan** _[Trade Federation]_

 **MoorClan** _[Intergalactic Banking Clan]_

 **CliffClan** _[Geonosis]_

 **ClayClan** _[Commerce Guild]_

 **SwampClan** _[Corporate Alliance]_

 **MesaClan** _[Sy Myrth]_

 **WaveClan** _[Ando]_

 **RiverClan** _[Mon Calamari]_

FIELDCLAN

Leader **Newtstar** – grey and white tabby tom with amber eyes _[Nute Gunray – Trade Federation Viceroy]_

Deputy **Hawkfur** – brown tabby tom with amber eyes and ripped right ear _[Rune Haako – Trade Federation Second]_

Medicine Cat **Finclaw** – black tom with green eyes and white paws and tail-tip _[Daultay Dofine – Trade Federation Captain]_

Mediator **Divepad** – dark grey tabby tom with green eyes and white right hind-paw _[Lott Dod – Trade Federation Senator]_

Warriors **Loudclaw** – silver-grey she-cat with grey eyes _[Tey How – Trade Federation Officer]_

FORESTCLAN

Leader **Forestspeaker** – silver tabby she-cat with green eyes _[Jamillia – Queen of Naboo]_

Medicine Cat **Bubblenose** – grey tabby tom with amber eyes _[Sio Bibble – Governor of Naboo]_

Mediator **Berryheart** – white she-cat with warm brown eyes _[Padme Naberrie Amidala – Senator of Naboo]_

Warriors **Vinetail** – cream she-cat with hazel eyes _[Corde – Handmaiden/Decoy of Padme]_

**Mousemist** – silver she-cat with brown eyes and white paws _[Dorme – Handmaiden of Padme]_

**Tallear** – grey and white she-cat with grey eyes _[Eirtae – Handmaiden of Padme]_

**Dimfur** – black and white she-cat with green eyes _[Dinee Ellberger – Naboo Pilot]_

**Breezefoot** – white long-furred she-cat with green eyes _[Elle – Handmaiden of Padme]_

**Owlwing** – light brown tabby tom with hazel eyes and white paws _[Ric Olie – Naboo Pilot]_

**Brownmoss** – dark brown tom with brown eyes _[Quarsh Panaka – Naboo Guard Captain]_

 **Jayeye** – black tom with brown eyes and white forepaws and scars over his left eye _[Gregar Typho – Naboo Guard]_

**Silverfoot** – silver she-cat with blue eyes _[Rabe – Handmaiden of Padme]_

**Brightbreeze** – white she-cat with brown eyes _[Sabe – Handmaiden of Padme]_

**Coppertail** – light grey she-cat with amber eyes _[Sache – Handmaiden of Padme]_

**Slipflight** – ginger and white tabby tom with grey eyes _[Gavyn Sykes – Naboo Lieutenant]_

**Jewelstep** – white she-cat with green eyes _[Jobal Naberrie – Mother of Padme]_

**Tumblefrost** – grey tom with blue eyes _[Ruwee Naberrie – Father of Padme]_

**Redspot** – ginger tabby she-cat with blue eyes _[R4-P17 – Droid of Obi-Wan]_

**Wrenfoot** – brown tabby tom with brown eyes _[Darred Janren Naberrie – Husband of Sola]_

**Palestep** – yellow tabby she-cat with green eyes and white paws and chest _[Apailana – Resident of Naboo]_

**Bronzefur** – golden tabby she-cat with hazel eyes _[R4-G9 – Droid of Obi-Wan]_

Apprentice, **Rosepaw** – light ginger tabby she-cat with blue eyes and white chest _[R2-KT – Republic Astromech Droid]_

**Goldenfoot** – yellow and white tom with amber eyes _[G8-R3 – Naboo Astromech Droid]_

**Redstripe** – red tabby tom with amber eyes _[R2-R9 – Naboo Astromech Droid]_

**Waspcloud** – blue she-cat with grey eyes with white paws _[R2-B1 – Naboo Astromech Droid]_

 **Dullflip** – dark grey tom with brown eyes _[Dolphe – Naboo Corporal]_

 **Bluestripe** – blue and white tabby tom with amber eyes _[R2-D2 – Naboo Astromech Droid]_

 **Robinleap –** red and white she-cat with grey eyes _[R2-D1 – Naboo Astromech Droid]_

Elders **Padsplash** – black tom with blue eyes and greying whiskers and face _[Paddy Accu – Water Speeder Driver]_

**Nipdeer** – light brown she-cat with green eyes and white right forepaw _[Nandi – Lake Resort Waitress]_

 **Tacklestep** – grey and white she-cat with grey eyes _[Teckla – Lake Resort Waitress]_

Queens **Sunbranch** – silver-grey she-cat with green eyes (mother to Poolkit & Russetkit) _[Sola Naberrie – Sister of Padme]_

Kits **Poolkit** – blue tabby she-cat with green eyes _[Pooja Naberrie – Niece of Padme]_

 **Russetkit** – brown she-cat with green eyes _[Ryoo Naberrie – Niece of Padme]_

TRIBE OF DEEP WATERS

Leader **Mud Where Toads Gather** – large brown tabby tom with brown eyes and white throat and paws _[Boss Rugor Nass – Gungan Leader]_

Mediator **Frog That Leaps From Stone** – ginger tabby tom with large green eyes _[Jar Jar Binks – Gungan]_

Warriors **Black Tar From Pits** – light brown and white tom with blue eyes _[Roos Tarpais – Gungan Captain]_

DESERTCLAN

Leader **Jab** – long-furred brown and white tom with amber eyes _[Jabba the Hutt – Hutt Crime Boss]_

Deputy **Lucky** – tan tom with green eyes and patched fur _[Bib Fortuna – Jabba Majordomo]_

Warriors **Boar** – long-furred grey tom with dark brown eyes _[Borvo the Hutt – Hutt Smuggler]_

 **Growl** – long-furred brown she-cat with amber eyes _[Gardulla the Hutt – Hutt Crime Lady]_

LAKECLAN

Mediator **Frosttail** – light grey tabby tom with green eyes and white tail-tip _[Orn Free Taa – Ryloth Senator]_

CYCLONECLAN

Mediator **Dartripple** – long-haired blue tom with brown eyes and white chest, belly, and tail-tip _[Darsana – Glee Anselm Ambassador]_

MOUNTAINCLAN

Leader **Flurrystar** – silver she-cat with grey eyes _[Breha Organa – Queen of Alderaan]_

Mediator **Balefur** – golden tabby tom with brown eyes and white paws _[Bail Organa – Alderaan Senator]_

CANYONCLAN

Mediator **Oxear** – light brown tom with grey eyes _[Ask Aak – Malastare Senator]_

HILLCLAN

Mediator **Mothripple** – cream and white she-cat with green eyes _[Mon Mothma – Chandrilla Senator]_

MESACLAN

Mediator **Bucktear** – grey and white she-cat with amber eyes _[Toonbuck Toora – Sy Myrth Representive]_

RIVERCLAN

Mediator **Squidface** – cream tom with brown eyes _[Tessek – Mon Calamari Senator]_

WAVECLAN

Mediator **Spiderface** – light brown tom with dark brown eyes and long whiskers _[Po Nudo – Ando Representative]_

DRYCLAN

Mediator **Tallface** – tall yellow tabby tom with amber eyes and white chin _[Horox Ryyder – Raioballo Sector Senator]_

CLAYCLAN

Leader **Marredstar** – grey she-cat with dark brown eyes and white forepaws _[Shu Mai – Commerce Guild President]_

SWAMPCLAN

Leader **Silverstar** – blue-grey tom with light green eyes _[Passel Argente – Corporate Alliance Magistrate]_

CLIFFCLAN

Leader **Roachstar** – dark grey tabby tom with brown eyes _[Poggle the Lesser – Geonosis Archduke]_

Deputy **Sunclaw** – brown tabby tom with dark brown eyes _[Sun Fac – Geonosis Aide]_

MOORCLAN

Leader **Sandstar** – light brown tabby tom with green eyes _[San Hill – Intergalactic Banking Clan Chairman]_

TRIBE OF WHITE WATERS

Leader **Long Sun** – tall cream tom with hazel eyes _[Lama Su – Kaminoan]_

Deputy **Tall Wing** – tall silver she-cat with brown eyes and white paws _[Taun We – Kaminoan]_

TRIBE OF WANDERING SANDS

Sand-Roamers **Dust Storm** – small dark brown tom with amber eyes _[Jawa]_

**Haze Flight** – small light brown she-cat with green eyes _[Jawa]_

CATS OUTSIDE OF CLANS

Serf Cats **Boulder** – black and white tom with brown eyes _[Kitser Banai – Best Friend of Anakin]_

**Sand** – cream she-cat with hazel eyes _[Amee – Friend of Anakin]_

**Worm** – grey tabby tom with green eyes _[Wald – Slave of Watto]_

**Seek** – dark grey tom with blue eyes and white tail-tip _[Seek – Friend of Anakin]_

Loners **Shell** – black and white tom with green eyes who lives by a Thundersnake den _[Sholh Dorr – Moisture Farmer]_

 **Stalk** – light brown and white she-cat with blue eyes who lives in a barn near a Thundersnake den _[Shmi Skywalker –Mother of Anakin]_

**Gold** – yellow tom with amber eyes who lives in a barn near a Thundersnake den _[C-3PO – Skywalker Protocol Droid]_

**Dex** – large brown tom with hazel eyes and an extra toe on each forepaw _[Dexter Jettser – Friend of Obi-Wan]_

 **Jet** – silver tabby she-cat with brown eyes _[Dex Waitress Droid]_

**Lars** – light brown tom with grey eyes who lives in a barn near a Thundersnake den _[Cliegg Lars – Moisture Farmer]_

**Owen** – light brown tabby tom with brown eyes who lives in a barn near a Thundersnake den _[Owen Lars – Son of Cliegg]_

**Whitesun** – cream tabby she-cat with bright green eyes and white chest who lives in a barn near a Thundersnake den _[Beru Whitesun – Girlfriend of Owen]_

**Sleaze** – dark brown and white tom with grey eyes _[Elan Sleazebaggano – Coruscant Ruffian]_

 **Dare** – blue-grey tom with brown eyes and a very long tail _[Watto the Toydarian – Slaveowner]_

Rogues **Slate** – grey tom with hazel eyes (father to Blue) _[Jango Fett – Bounty Hunter]_

**Blue** – blue-grey tom with hazel eyes _[Boba Fett – Clone/son of Jango]_

**Weasel** – pale brown she-cat with green eyes and scarred face _[Zam Wesell – Assassin]_

 **Slink** – small black tom with amber eyes and kinked tail _[Zam’s Droid]_

 **Tusk** – dark brown tom with brown eyes _[Tusken Raider]_

 **Raze** – black tom with brown eyes and scarred left cheek _[Tusken Raider]_

 **Sharp** – brown tom with amber eyes _[Tusken Raider]_


	2. Faithful Watch and New Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we begin..... not the way we expect to. (A bit of clean air before the storm to come.)

Gold sat atop the sand-covered stone that stood at the border of the farm-territory, tail curled around his paws. Whiskers twitching in the night-breeze, the young tom, amber eyes glowing in the light of the unclouded moon and stars, gazed out at the vast plain of sand that stretched before him. No sharp edges broke the landscape about him, just the smooth and rounded forms of windblown sand dunes in this land of seemingly endless sands. Somewhere out in the distance a large creature moaned, a plaintive sound that resonated deeply within Gold this night.

This special night.

His brother Sky, his dearest older brother, will have been gone exactly twelve moons as of the coming sunrise. Every night, he sat his vigil despite not having so much as heard of his whereabouts in all this time. How different he must be! How grown, how strong, how wise in the ways of LightClan warriors by now! Gold, who had lived all his life in a small area of the Great-Sand-Place, knew that he could hardly imagine the wonders his older brother might have found out there, in lands so different from this, with colors more vivid and water that filled entire valleys.

A wistful purr rumbled from his throat as he remembered those times long ago, when his mother and brother had been serf-cats for the wretched loner Dare. Sky, he recalled their mother fondly complaining, with his mischief and his dreams, with his independent attitude and unsurpassed courage, used to so infuriate that tom. Despite the hardships of life as a serf-cat or the hidden family-member of one, there had been good times, too, back then. Despite their meager food, despite the constant hiding, they had been together, a family.

“You should come in,” came a quiet voice behind him.

Gold’s purr only grew louder, and he turned to see his new brother, Owen, padding over to join him. He was a stocky and strong tom about Sky’s age, with light brown tabby fur, short whiskers, and open brown eyes that could not hide anything that was within his heart.

Gold shifted to make room as Owen leapt up easily and sat beside him, tucking his own tail about his paws.

“No sign of him tonight, brother?” Owen asked good-naturedly. He knew why Gold had come out here, why he came out here so very often in the quiet night.

Gold looked over Owen, eyes gleaming with warmth and affection. He loved this tom nearly as much as he loved his first-brother, and he had been so good to him, so understanding of the hole that remained within his heart. Without jealousy, without judgement, Owen had accepted Gold’s pain and had always given him a shoulder to lean on. Even so, he was no Sky.

“No sign this night,” he replied, and he looked back out at the vast desert. “Sky must be busy saving every cat he meets or chasing rogues, foxes, or other dangers. He has to do those things now.”

“Then I shall sleep more soundly from this night forward,” Owen replied with a purr.

Though he was partly joking, of course, Gold did realize a bit of truth in his perception about Sky. He was a special cat, something beyond average – even for a LightClan cat, he believed. Sky had always stood taller than any other cat. Not physically, though being the older one he had been quite taller than Gold. But Sky could do things, and so very well. Even though he was only a kit at the time, he had run in Sand-Dune-Races, defeating some of the very best racers in all of the Great-Sand-Place. He was the youngest ever to win one of the Sand-Dune-Races, and that was when he was only six moons old!

But that was Sky’s way, because he was not like other kits, or even like any of the older cats. Sky could “see” things before they happened, as if he was so tuned to the world about him that he understood innately the logical conclusion to any course of events. He could often sense problems in places they used to explore, for example, long before those problems manifested themselves in a catastrophic way. Sky had once told him that he could feel the upcoming obstacles in any course before he actually saw them. It was his special way, and that was why the LightClan cat who had come to the Great-Sand-Place had recognized the unique nature of his brother and had freed him from Dare and taken him into his care and instruction.

“We had to let him go,” Gold mewed quietly. “We could not force him to stay with us, if that meant living the life of a serf-cat.”

“I know,” Owen assured him.

“We could not have forced him to stay with us even if he and Mom were not serf-cats,” he went on. “Sky has so much to give to every cat and every territory. His gifts could not be contained by this one place. He belongs out there, racing across so many other lands, saving so many cats. He was born to be a LightClan warrior, born to give so much more to so many more.”

“That is why I sleep better at night,” Owen reiterated, and when Gold looked over at him, he saw that his eyes were shining with humor.

“Oh, you’re teasing me!” he meowed, reaching out to swat the other’s ear. Owen merely leaned away, purring.

Gold’s eyes grew solemn again. “Sky wanted to go,” he continued, the same speech his mother had given him before, the same speech that he had silently repeated to himself every night for the last twelve moons. “His dream was to travel, to see every territory there is, to do grand things. He was born a serf-cat, but he was not born _to be_ a serf-cat. No, not Sky. Not my big brother.”

Owen touched Gold’s shoulder with his tail. “Mom did the right thing, and so did you. If I was Sky, I would be grateful to you. I’d understand that you both did what was best for me. There is no greater love than that, brother.”

Gold blinked at him warmly and even managed a wistful purr.

“Come on in, Gold,” Owen meowed, standing and shaking the sand from his pelt. “It’s dangerous out here.”

Gold rose and didn’t resist at first as he turned to follow Owen. He stopped suddenly, though, and stared hard at his second-brother as he turned back to regard him. “It’s more dangerous out there,” he meowed, lowering his ears, his voice breaking. Alarm evident in his eyes, he looked back out at the desert. “What if he is hurt, Owen? Or dead?”

“It’s better to die in pursuit of your dreams than to live a life without hope,” Owen replied, rather unconvincingly.

Gold looked back at him, his fear fading. Owen, like his father, was about as grounded in simple pragmatism as any cat could be. He understood that he had said that only for his benefit, and that made it all the more special.

He didn’t hesitate anymore as Owen began to lead him along again, back to the barn that was the humble home of Lars, Stalk’s new mate, Owen’s father.

They had done the right thing concerning his brother, Gold told himself with every step. They had been serf-cats, with no prospects of finding their freedom other than the offer of the LightClan cat. How could they have kept Sky here, when LightClan warriors were promising him all of his dreams.

Of course, at that time, neither of them had known that Stalk would meet Lars that fateful sunhigh, and that the barn-dwelling loner would fall in love with her, claim a then-still-hidden Gold as his kit, trade for her, and free her, and only then, once both were freed, ask Stalk to be his mate. Would Stalk have let Sky go if she had known the changes that would come into their lives so soon after his departure? Would he have?

Wouldn’t their lives be better now, more complete by far, if Sky were beside them?

Gold purred as he thought about it. No, he realized, they would still have allowed him to go, even if they had foreseen the dramatic changes that would soon come into their lives. Not for themselves, but for Sky. His place was out there. They both knew that.

Gold shook out his fur, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, by the many winding turns in his life’s path, in his mother’s path, in Sky’s path. Even in hindsight, whatever his mother’s reasoning, he could not be sure that this present situation was not the best possible outcome, for all of them.

But still, there remained a deep and empty hole in his heart.

“I can help with that,” Whitesun mewed politely, moving to join Stalk, who was carrying a trio of mice she’d caught. Lars, Owen, and Gold were out patrolling the edges of territory, catching any prey they stumbled across and ensuring they would be safe and well-fed enough through the night – a night that promised a dust storm.

Purring warmly, and glad that this young she-cat was soon to be a member of the family, Stalk allowed Whitesun to take two of the mice. Owen hadn’t mentioned anything yet about asking her to be his mate, but Stalk could tell from the way the two looked at each other. It was only a matter of time, and not much time at that, if she knew her mate’s kit. Owen was not an adventurous cat, was as solid as the ground beneath them, but when he knew what he wanted, he went after in with single-minded purpose.

Whitesun was exactly like that, and she obviously loved Owen as deeply as he loved her. She was well suited to life as a barn-cat to Stalk’s thinking after the mice had been placed on the fresh-kill pile and she paused to watch the younger cat methodically fuss over their nests. She never shied from any duty, was very capable and diligent.

 _And she doesn’t expect much, or need much to make her happy,_ Stalk thought, for that, in truth, was the crux of it. Their existence here was simple and plain. There were few adventures, and none at all that were welcomed, for excitement out here usually meant that rogues or some other dangerous creature had been seen in the area, or that a gigantic sandstorm or some other potentially devastating weather phenomenon was blowing up.

The barn-cats had only the simple things, mostly the company of each other, to keep them amused and content. For Lars, this had been the only way of life he had ever known, a lifestyle that went back several generations in his family. Same thing for Owen. And while Whitesun had once been a Clan cat who’d managed to wander as far as the nearby Thundersnake den, she seemed to fit right in.

Yes, Owen and Whitesun would be mates, Stalk knew, and what a happy day that would be!

The toms returned soon after, Gold trailing slightly behind with a large hare firmly in his jaws.

“Something more for the fresh-kill pile,” the yellow tom meowed around his mouthful. “I would have gone after another, but I was told, and not in any civil way, that I had to hurry.”

Stalk looked to Lars, and he purred and ran a paw over his ear. “Could’ve left him out there to get sand-groomed, I suppose,” he mewed. “Of course, some of the looser rocks that are sure to be flying about might’ve knocked him off his paws once or twice.”

“I beg your pardon, Lars,” Gold replied, dropping the hare to be heard clearly. “I only meant–”

“We know what you meant, Gold,” Stalk assured the younger tom. She rested her tail comfortingly on his shoulder, then moved it away as he gathered up the hare and moved to put it away. She watched her son fondly. When Sky left with the LightClan warrior, Gold had been near-inconsolable. Stalk had done all she could to keep his spirits up despite the pain that came with missing his brother dearly, listening to his wishful thinking that his brother would return to play and explore with him again. Just after they started living in the barn with Lars and Owen had Gold finally roused himself fully from his depression. It had been quite a touching moment for Stalk, an admission of sorts that they were where they belonged and Sky was where he belonged. Even so, Gold still watched for his brother and, to her everlasting surprise, had even started quietly considering going to look for him despite his skittishness.

“Course, if there are rogues about, they’d likely have gotten him under cover before the storm,” Lars went on, obviously taking great pleasure in teasing the young tom. “You’re not afraid of rogues, are you, Gold?”

“I’ve been sticking my nose in abandoned Twoleg-dens since I was a small kit! Rogues are nothing to be afraid of,” Gold replied, though he would have sounded more convincing if his paws hadn’t been shaking, and if his voice hadn’t come out all squeaky and uneven.

“Enough,” Stalk demanded of Lars. “Oh, poor Gold,” she mewed, grooming her son’s ear. “Go ahead, now. There’s more than enough for everyone tonight.” As she finished, she nudged him toward the pile. He scurried off with a mouse, preparing to take up his nightly vigil from inside the barn.

“You’re just terrible to him,” she remarked, moving beside her mate with the hare and playfully flicking her tail against his broad shoulder.

“Well, if I can’t have fun with him, I’ll have to set my sights on some other cat,” the rarely mischievous Lars replied, narrowing his eyes and scanning the barn. He finally settled a mock-threatening gaze on Whitesun.

“Lars,” Stalk was quick to warn.

“What?” he protested dramatically. “If she’s thinking to come out and live here, then she had better learn to defend herself!”

“Father!” Owen cried. Gold half-turned at the sound.

“Oh, don’t fret about _old_ Lars,” Whitesun piped in, eyes wide with mock-innocence. “A fine barn-cat I would make if I couldn’t out-yowl that one!”

“Aha! A challenge!” Lars yowled.

“Not so much of one from where I’m sitting,” Whitesun dryly returned, and she and Lars began exchanging some good-natured insults, with Owen chiming in every now and again.

Stalk hardly listened, too engaged in merely watching Whitesun. Yes, she would certainly fit in, and well, about the barn. Her temperament was perfect. Solid, but playful when the situation allowed. Gruff Lars could vocally spar with the best of them, but Whitesun had to be counted among that elite lot. Stalk settled herself down to eat, purring louder every time Whitesun hit Lars with a particularly nasty retort.

Intent on her meal, Stalk never saw the missile coming, and when the clot of dirt hit her on the top of her head, she let out a screech.

Of course, that only made the other three mrrow with laughter.

Stalk sat up to see them crouched there, staring at her. Even Gold had spun around from his post to look over in alarm. From the embarrassed duck of Whitesun’s head, and from the angle, with Whitesun crouched directly across from Lars, it seemed obvious that Whitesun had launched the dirt-clot, aiming for Lars, but throwing a bit off-center.

“The she-cat listens when you tell her to stop,” he yowled, his sarcastic tone shattered by a loud mrrow of laughter.

He stopped when Stalk pounced on him, knocking him over into Owen.

A brief bout of play-wrestling began – measured, of course, and with more threats hurled than actual blows.

When it ended, Stalk shook the dust that had been stirred up from her pelt. “You two go and spend some time together without your troublemaking father,” Stalk told Owen and Whitesun. “Lars started it, so Lars can help get the dust off the fresh-kill pile. Go on, now.”

Lars let out an amused purr.

“And if you kick up any more dust, you’re going to be hungry,” Stalk told him, threateningly raising her tail. “And lonely!”

“Whoa! Never that!” Lars meowed, lowering his ears in submission.

With a wave of her tail, Stalk further dismissed Owen and Whitesun, and the two went off happily.

“She’ll make him a fine mate,” Stalk mewed to Lars.

He padded up beside her and wound his tail around hers, leaning against her shoulder. “The toms in our family fall in love with the best she-cats.”

Stalk heard his warm and sincere purr, and she returned it in kind. This was the way it was supposed to be. Good honest living, a sense of true accomplishment, and enough free time for some fun, at least. This was the life Stalk had always wanted. This was perfect, almost.

Her ears tilted back wistfully.

“Thinking of your other son again,” Lars stated, instead of asked.

Stalk looked at him, then back at Gold, who was facing back outside. Her eyes held a mixture of joy and sadness, a single dark cloud crossing a sunny blue sky. “Yes, but it’s okay this time,” she mewed. “He’s safe, I know, and doing great things.”

“But when we have such fun, you wish he could be here.”

Stalk purred again. “I do, and in all other times, as well. I wish Sky had been here from the beginning, since you and I first met.”

“Six moons ago,” Lars remarked.

“He would love you as I do, and he and Owen …” Her voice weakened and trailed away.

“You think that Sky and Owen would be friends?” Lars asked. “Bah! Of course they would!”

“You’ve never even met my Sky!” Stalk scolded.

“They’d be the best of friends,” Lars assured her, licking her ear fondly. “How could they not be, with Gold as that one’s brother and you as his mother?”

Stalk accepted the compliment gracefully, looking over and touching his nose with hers. She was thinking of Owen, of the young tom’s flowering romance with the lovely Whitesun. How Stalk loved them both!

But that thought brought with it some level of discomfort. Stalk had often wondered if Owen had been part of the reason she had so readily agreed to come live with Lars. She studied her mate, leaning against his broad shoulder. Yes, she loved him, and deeply, and she certainly couldn’t deny her joy at finally being relived of her serf-cat rank and no longer being forced to hide her non-serf-cat son. But despite all of that, what part had the presence of Owen played in her decisions? It had been a question that had stayed with her all these moons. Had there been a need in her heart that Owen had filled? A mother’s need to cover the hole left by Sky’s departure?

In truth, the two toms were very different in temperament. Something Gold had often commented on to her. Owen was solid and staid, the rock who would gladly live the same life here as Lars and their ancestors had for many generations. Owen was thrilled to have his life laid out so easily before him, more than able to accept the quiet lifestyle that came with being a barn-cat.

But Sky …

Stalk nearly mrrow with laughter as she considered her more impetuous and wanderlust-filled son put in a similar situation. She had no doubts that Sky would give Lars the same fits he had always given Dare. Sky’s adventurous spirit would not be tamed by any sense of generational responsibilities or an easygoing way of life, Stalk knew. His need to leap out for adventure, to race across dangerous sands, to explore abandoned Twoleg-things, that had gotten him and Gold into so much trouble so many times, would not have been diminished, and it surely would have made Lars crazier than a fox in a fit.

Now Stalk did purr, imagining Lars yowling with exasperation when Sky had wandered off once again with Gold close behind.

Lars started grooming her fur with a loud purr at the sound, obviously having no clue of the images fluttering through her mind.

Stalk melted under the affection, knowing that she was where she belonged, and taking comfort in the hope that Sky, too, was where he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild change of schedule in regards to posting: if all goes well, I'll post on Wednesdays as well as Sundays now. Whatever happens, don't forget to leave a comment!


	3. Debates Personal and Public

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, back to more familiar faces. (This is where the fun begins)

She wasn’t sitting straight and aloof in the manner that marked her rank for the past several moons. Her pelt wasn’t neatly groomed, fur smooth and glistening white without a speck of dust. And in that plainness, Berryheart only appeared more beautiful and more shining.

The she-cat lounging beside her on the sunning-stone, so obviously a relation despite her green eyes and silver-grey fur, was a bit longer, a bit more plump, perhaps, with her fur a bit more ruffled than Berryheart’s. But she was no less beautiful, shining with an inner glow equally strong.

“Did you finish your meetings with Forestspeaker?” Sunbranch asked. It was obvious from her tone that the meetings to which she had referred were not high on her personal wish list.

Berryheart looked over at her, then looked back at the patch of clover where Sunbranch’s two kits, Russetkit and Poolkit, were in the midst of a wild game of chase.

“It was one meeting,” Berryheart explained. “Forestspeaker had some information to pass on.”

“About the Army Creation Deal,” Sunbranch stated.

Berryheart didn’t bother to confirm the obvious. The Army Creation Deal now before the Tribe of Gathering was the most important piece of business in many moons, one that held implications for all of the Clans even beyond those during the dark time when Berryheart had been Forestspeaker and FieldClan had tried to conquer ForestClan.

“The Tribe of Gathering is all in a tumult, but not to fear, for Berryheart, mediator of ForestClan, will put it all aright,” Sunbranch meowed.

Berryheart turned to her, somewhat surprised by the level of sarcasm in Sunbranch’s tone.

“That’s what you do, right?” Sunbranch innocently asked.

“It’s what I try to do.”

“It’s all you try to do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Berryheart asked, her ears and head tilted in puzzlement. “I am a mediator after all.”

“A mediator after a leader, and probably many more moons of such ranks ahead of her,” Sunbranch meowed. She looked back at the clover patch and yowled at Russetkit and Poolkit to ease up.

“You speak as if it’s a bad thing,” Berryheart remarked.

Sunbranch looked at her earnestly. “It’s a great thing,” she meowed. “If you’re doing it all for the right reasons.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Sunbranch flicked an ear, as if she wasn’t quite sure. “I think you’ve convinced yourself that you’re indispensable to the Tribe of Gathering,” she mewed. “That they couldn’t get along at all without you.”

“Sister!”

“It’s true,” Sunbranch insisted. “You give and give and give and give. Don’t you ever want to take, just a little?”

Berryheart’s lowered ears showed that Sunbranch had caught her off-guard. “Take what?”

Sunbranch looked back to Russetkit and Poolkit. “Look at them. I see the sparkle in your eyes when you watch my kits. I know how much you love them.”

“Of course, I do!”

“Wouldn’t you like to have kits of your own?” Sunbranch asked. “A family of your own?”

Berryheart sat up straight, her eyes going wide. “I …” she started, and stopped, several times. “I’m working right now for something I deeply believe in. For something that’s important.”

“And after this is settled, after the Army Creation Deal is far behind you, you’ll find something else to deeply believe in, something else that’s really important. Something that concerns the Clan and the Tribe of Gathering more than it really concerns you.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true and you know it’s true. When are you going to do something just for yourself?”

“I am.”

“You know what I mean.”

Berryheart let out a quiet purr and a shake of her fur, and turned back to Russetkit and Poolkit. “Is every cat to be defined by their kits?” she asked.

“Of course not,” Sunbranch replied. “It’s not that at all. Or not just that. I’m talking about something bigger, sister. You spend all of your time worrying about the problems of other cats, of this Clan’s dispute with that Clan, or whether this Tribe is acting fairly toward that Tribe. All of your energy is being thrown out there to try to make the lives of every other cat better.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“What about _your_ life?” Sunbranch asked in all seriousness. “What about _Berryheart_? Have you even thought about what might make _your_ life better? I know you get satisfaction in helping others. That’s pretty obvious. But what about something deeper for _you_? What about love, sister? And yes, what about having kits? Have you even thought about it? Have you even wondered what it might be like for you to settle down and concern yourself with those things that will make your _own_ life fuller?”

Berryheart wanted to retort that her life didn’t need to be any fuller, but she found herself holding it back. Somehow it seemed hollow to her at that particular moment, watching her nieces romping about the clover patch just outside of their quiet camp, now jumping all about poor Bluestripe, Berryheart’s current guard.

For the first time in many sunrises, Berryheart’s thoughts roamed free of her responsibilities, free of the important stone-cast she would have to make at the Great Gathering in less than two moons. Somehow, the idea of an _Army Creation Deal_ couldn’t filter through the whimsical game that Russetkit and Poolkit were convincing Bluestripe to play with them.

Only a couple of sunrises had past since her visit with her sister, and yet Berryheart felt strangely uneasy in her den, in the main camp across from Forestspeaker’s den. She was pacing about the den, mentally tallying the predicted stone-casting from other Clans in regards to the upcoming Great Gathering. It seemed almost perfectly even.

Berryheart knew that the result would be close, with the mediators almost evenly divided over whether the Tribe of Gathering should create a formal army. It galled her to think that so many of her fellow mediators would cast their stones based on personal gain – everything from potential alliances for access to hunting for their own Clans to direct tribute from other Clans – rather than on what was best for all.

In her heart, Berryheart remained steadfast that she had to work to defeat the creation of this army. The Tribe of Gathering had been created through tolerance. It was a vast collaboration of many Tribes and Clans, each was a distinct perspective. The only element they shared was tolerance – tolerance of one another. The creation of an army might prove unsettling, even threatening, to so many of those Tribes and Clans, cats far removed from the Gathering Place.

There was movement outside of the den, and a familiar voice asking permission for entry. She agreed, and Brownmoss padded in.

“Just checking on you,” mewed the senior warrior. Tall and dark-furred, he had a keen gaze and muscular form, and the mere sight of Brownmoss filled Berryheart with comfort.

“Shouldn’t you be seeing to the guards outside of Forestspeaker’s den?” Berryheart asked.

Brownmoss dipped his head. “She is well protected, I assure you.”

“And I am capable of my own defense,” Berryheart countered. “Why did you really stop by?”

Brownmoss stifled a purr at her directness. “I was on my way here to speak with you about security for your return journey to the Gathering Place.”

“That is a moon away.”

Brownmoss looked her in the eye. “Which gives us more time to properly prepare.”

Berryheart knew better than to argue with the stubborn tom. Since she was travelling on official Clan business, Brownmoss had the right, if not the responsibility, to get involved. And in truth, his concern pleased her, although she’d never admit it to him.

A raised voice outside and the ensuing argument drew her attention briefly, making her wince. Another problem. There was always a problem, somewhere. Berryheart had to wonder if that was just the nature of things, something out to create some excitement when all seemed well. Given that unsettling thought, Sunbranch’s comment came back to her, along with images of Russetkit and Poolkit. How she loved those two carefree little she-kits!

“Berryheart?” Brownmoss meowed, drawing her out of her private contemplations.

“Yes?”

“We should discuss the options.”

It pained Berryheart to let go of the images of her nieces at that moment, but she dipped her head and forced herself back into her responsible mindset. Brownmoss had told her that they had to discuss security, and so Berryheart had to discuss security.

“This is not good news,” Brownmoss meowed, after delivering the blow to Berryheart.

“We’ve suspected all along that Birdclaw and his new ‘Tribe of Shadows’ would approach FieldClan and its allies,” Berryheart replied, trying to look positively at it all. Her departure was less than a half-moon away and Brownmoss had just come in with Jayeye, his nephew and former apprentice, with the report that FieldClan had thrown in with the growing Tribe of Shadows that now threatened to tear the Tribe of Gathering apart.

“Newtstar is an opportunist,” she continued. “He will do anything that he believes will benefit him personally. His loyalties end at his interest. Birdclaw must be offering him something of great interest. New and larger territory, perhaps. Or control over other Clans.”

“I’m more concerned with the implications to you, Berryheart,” Brownmoss remarked, drawing a curious stare from the she-cat.

“The Tribe of Shadows has shown itself not to be above violence,” he explained. “There have been murder attempts across all Clans and Tribes.”

“But wouldn’t the Tribe of Shadows consider Berryheart almost an ally at this time?” Jayeye interjected, and both Brownmoss and Berryheart looked at the usually quiet tom in surprise.

Berryheart’s look quickly turned into an angry stare; her ears flattened and her tail lashed. “I am no friend to any who would dissolve the Tribe of Gathering, Jayeye,” she insisted, her tone leaving no room for debate – and of course, there would be no debating that point. In the few moons she had been a mediator, Berryheart had shown herself to be among the most loyal and powerful supporters of the Tribe of Gathering, a Clan cat determined to improve affairs, but to do so within the framework of the Tribe’s Code. Berryheart fervently believed that the real beauty of the Tribe of Gathering was its built-in abilities, even demands, for self-improvement.

“Agreed, Berryheart,” Jayeye mewed with a dip of his head. He was shorter than his uncle but powerfully built, muscles rippling beneath glistening black fur. He had scars across his left eye, which he had received in the battle against FieldClan over twelve moons before. Jayeye had been an apprentice then, but had shown himself well, and made Brownmoss proud. “And no offense meant. But on this issue concerning the creation of an army for the Tribe of Gathering, you have remained firmly on the side of negotiation over force. Would not the Tribe of Shadows agree with you?”

When Berryheart put her initial outrage aside and considered the point, she had to agree.

“Birdclaw has thrown in with Newtstar, according to the reports,” Brownmoss cut in, his tone flat and determined. “That mere fact demands that we tighten security about Berryheart.”

“Please do not speak about me as though I’m not here,” she scolded, but Brownmoss didn’t blink.

“In matters of security, Berryheart, you _are_ not here,” he replied. “At least, your voice is not. Jayeye reports to me, and his responsibilities on this matter cannot be undermined. Take all precautions.”

With that, he turned and left the den with a curt flick of his tail, and Berryheart suppressed her immediate desire to rebuke him. He was right, and she was better off because he dared to point it out. She looked back at Jayeye.

“We will be vigilant, Berryheart.”

“I have my duty, and that duty demands that I soon return to the Gathering Place,” she meowed.

“And I have my duty,” Jayeye assured her, and like Brownmoss, he turned and padded away.

Berryheart watched him go, then gave a great sigh, remembering her conversation with Sunbranch and wondering if she would ever find the opportunity to follow her sister’s advice – advice that she was finding strangely tempting at that particular moment. She realized then that she hadn’t seen Sunbranch, or the kits, or her parents, in nearly a half-moon, not since that day in the meadow with Russetkit and Poolkit.

Time did seem to be slipping past her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an FYI to those who are wondering, I am currently working at getting up on Tumblr, but too much was happening to get that rolling today. Will hopefully have news on that Sunday


	4. Arrivals and Tragedy

The four shadows slipped past the misty trees, weaving in and out of the tall stones leading to their destination. Muted sunlight, covered by the thick mist, caused the early morning dew to gleam brightly. The cats were covered in mud from the previous night’s rain, coating them from muzzle to tail. Another group followed several fox-lengths behind.

The leading cat guided them around the more heavily travelled paths, where potential enemies might be lurking within the cover of many innocent cats. Most knew that the mediator of ForestClan was returning to the Gathering Place to participate in the Casting of Stones for the Army Creation Deal. They also knew that she would cast against it, and there were many cats that did not want such a cast. Berryheart had made many enemies during her moons as Forestspeaker, powerful enemies with great resources at their disposal, and with, perhaps, enough hatred for the beautiful young mediator to put some of those resources to work to her detriment.

The leading cat, Dullflip, who had distinguished himself greatly in ForestClan’s battle against FieldClan, breathed a sigh of relief as the empty entrance, flanked by the remains of a pair of Twoleg-dens too damaged to safely use, came into sight appearing secure and clear. Dullflip, a tough warrior who revered his Clan’s mediator greatly, raced through the opening as fast as his paws could move, then cut a tight turn to the right, circling around the open area before leaping onto a stone to the left of the entrance. He paused there, head and ears moving all about. 

The three cats immediately behind him circled the area before moving to one side of the open area opposite the tunnel-like entrance. Dullflip noticed them, but remained on his perch, ready to leap into action if needed.

One of the three below him, Jayeye, recently assigned to lead Berryheart’s guards by his uncle Brownmoss, shook some of the mud from his pelt, flinging large clots and droplets to either side.

“We made it,” Jayeye mewed as the other two warriors, a she-cat and a tom, padded over to stand beside him. “I guess I was wrong. There was no danger at all.”

“There’s always danger, Jayeye,” the she-cat replied between licks at her own mud-covered fur. “Sometimes we’re just lucky enough to avoid it.”

Jayeye started to respond, but paused and looked back toward the entrance, where the other group, as equally covered by mud as them, was beginning to move through the tunnel-like entrance. The plan was to get the entire patrol away from the exposed area and into Berryheart’s den as quickly as possible. Two large toms led the way, alert and ready, eyes and ears searching. Jayeye flicked an ear in grim satisfaction, glad to see that his warriors were taking nothing for granted, that they understood the gravity of the situation and their responsibility here in protecting their mediator.

Next came the mud-covered mediator with her paradoxical grace and beauty, and four more warriors behind her. With her soft eyes and elegant form, she could outshine any cat about her, even covered in muck as she was now, although when her pelt was completely groomed, she outshone the stars themselves. Berryheart’s mixture of intelligence and beauty, of innocence and allure, of courage and integrity and yet with a good measure of a kit’s mischievousness, had Jayeye catching his breath every time he looked upon her.

The tom turned from the approaching entourage back to Dullflip atop the stone, offering a satisfied tail-flick in acknowledgement of the warrior’s scouting work.

And then, suddenly, Jayeye was lying on his side on the stone ground, flung sideways by a tremendous ground-shake, stunned for a couple of heartbeats by clouds of dust as a crash of stone roared behind him. He looked up as his vision returned to see Dullflip sprawled on the ground.

Everything seemed to move at the speed of a snail for Jayeye in that terrible heartbeat. He heard himself yowling “No!” as he scrambled to his paws and turned about.

One of the flanking stone dens, that had stood for many seasons long before the Tribe of Gathering had been formed, was now little more than a pile of cracked stones. Clouds of dust were slowly dissipating in the gentle dawn breeze revealing seven bodies half-buried by the rubble.

Disoriented from the ground-shake, the black tom stumbled as he moved toward the fallen stones. A great lump welled in his throat, for he knew what had happened.

Jayeye had seen battles, had seen cats die violently, and in looking at those bodies, in looking at the mostly uncovered, still, bloody body of the she-cat the others had been assigned to guard with their lives, he instinctively knew.

The she-cat’s wounds were surely un-healable. She was fast dying, if not already dead.

“You sent us off-track!” Sunleap snarled to his young apprentice. Sunleap’s muscles were more pronounced now, rippling beneath his pelt even when he relaxed. His slightly longer fur lay comfortably, if a bit dusty from traveling. For Sunleap had become comfortable, had grown into the rank of warrior of LightClan. No longer was he the impulsive apprentice under the training of Moonlight.

His companion at this time, however, appeared quite the opposite. Skypaw looked as if his tall, thin frame simply could not contain his overabundance of energy. He was similarly as dusty as Sunleap, but he stood taller, fur better arranged, and his muscles always seemed taut with readiness. His blue eyes flashed repeatedly, as if bursts of energy were escaping.

“Just to lengthen our time out here a bit,” he explained. “We’ll come out closer this way.”

Sunleap gave a great and resigned sigh and sat down for a moment, noting their surroundings as he mentally figured out which path Skypaw had led them down. There was little the warrior could do about it now, of course, for they were too far down the path to turn around. “We cannot enter so close to the sunset-side of the Gathering Place. There is too much loose debris for a safe approach. I’ve already explained this to you.”

“But –”

“Skypaw,” Sunleap meowed pointedly, as if he were scolding a kit, and he flicked his tail-tip and stared hard at his apprentice.

“Yes, mentor,” Skypaw mewed, obediently looking down.

Sunleap held the glare for just a heartbeat longer. “I know that you’re anxious to get there,” he conceded. “We’ve been too long away from home.”

Skypaw didn’t look up, but Sunleap could see his whiskers twitch hopefully.

“Never do this again,” Sunleap warned, and he turned and proceeded along the path.

Skypaw watched him go, tail twitching slightly. The order had been about as direct as one could get, of course, and so Skypaw silently told himself that he would adhere to it. Still, as he considered their current destination, and who awaited them there, he thought the scolding worth it, even if his leading them along a different path than planned had granted him only a bit longer in the Gathering Place. He was indeed anxious to get there, though not for the reason Sunleap had stated. It wasn’t the LightClan camp that beckoned to the apprentice, but rather a rumor that he had heard from Clan cats they had passed that a certain mediator, formerly the leader of ForestClan, was on her way to address the Great Gathering.

Berryheart.

The name resonated in young Skypaw’s heart and soul. He hadn’t seen her in thirteen moons, not since he, along with Sunleap and Moonlight, had helped her in her struggle against FieldClan at Green-Trees. He had only been seven moons old at the time, but from the moment he had first laid eyes on Berryheart, young Skypaw had known that she was the she-cat who would be his mate.

Never mind that Berryheart was several moons older than he was. Never mind that he was just a kit when he had known her, when she had known him. Never mind that LightClan cats were not allowed to have mates.

Skypaw had simply known, without question, and the image of beautiful Berryheart had stayed with him, had been burned into his every dream and fantasy, every sunrise since he had left Green-Trees with Sunleap thirteen moons ago. He could still smell the pine-and-flower scent of her fur, could still see the sparkle of intelligence and passion in her wonderous, warm brown eyes, could still hear the melody that was Berryheart’s voice.

Hardly registering the movement, Skypaw let his paws carry him swiftly after Sunleap even as he cast his senses far and wide. Perhaps he could find a little-used side-path that would get them home faster.

One of Jayeye’s fellow warriors, the she-cat, raced past him, and the black tom scrambled to follow. Across the way, Dullflip and the other tom, Bluestripe, were up and similarly running toward the she-cat trapped beneath the debris.

The she-cat who’d been with the advance patrol of four arrived first, dropping into a crouch beside the fallen one. She blinked away stray dust and quickly shook mud from her pelt revealing white fur beneath.

“Berryheart!” Jayeye yowled. It was indeed Berryheart crouching beside the dying she-cat, her decoy. “Come, the danger has not passed!”

But Berryheart waved the tom back furiously with her tail, then bent low to her fallen friend.

“Vinetail,” she mewed quietly, her voice breaking. Vinetail was one of her beloved friends, one who had been with her since their apprenticeship. Berryheart laid her paw on Vinetail’s shoulder gently.

Vinetail opened her eyes, hazel eyes meeting Berryheart’s own. “I’m sorry, Berryheart,” she gasped, struggling for breath. “I’m … not sure I …” She paused and lay there, staring at Berryheart. “I’ve failed you.”

“No!” Berryheart insisted, arguing her friend’s reasoning, arguing against all of this madness. “No, no, no!”

Vinetail continued to stare at her, or stare past her, it seemed to the grief-stricken young mediator. Looking past her and past everything, Vinetail’s eyes stared into a far different place.

Berryheart felt her relax suddenly, as if her spirit simply leapt from her body.

“Vinetail!” the she-cat cried, and she pressed her nose against her friend’s muzzle, squeezing her eyes shut, denying this awful reality.

“Berryheart, you are still in danger!” Jayeye meowed, trying to sound sympathetic, but with a clear sense of urgency in his voice.

Berryheart lifted her head, and took a deep and steadying breath. Looking upon her dead friend, she remembered all at once the many times they had spent together. “May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep,” she breathed, a final farewell to loyal Vinetail. She stood up beside the wary Jayeye, tail and ears lowered in sorrow. “I shouldn’t have come back,” she mewed to him.

Jayeye came out of his ready stance long enough to lock stares with his Clan’s mediator. “This Casting of Stones is very important,” he reminded her, his tone uncompromising, the voice of a warrior sworn to duty above all else. So much like his uncle. “You did your duty, Berryheart, and Vinetail did hers. Now come.”

He started away, touching his tail to her shoulder, but she shook it off and stood there, staring down at her lost friend.

“Berryheart! Please!”

Berryheart looked over at the tom.

“Would you so diminish Vinetail’s death as to stand here and risk your own life?” Jayeye bluntly stated. “What good will her sacrifice be if –”

“Enough, Jayeye,” Berryheart interrupted.

Jayeye signaled for Dullflip to run a defensive perimeter behind them, then he led the stricken Berryheart away.

To one side, Bluestripe hesitated as he looked over at his fallen Clanmates, crushed by the debris, then turned and fell into line behind the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am now on Tumblr! Now I just need to tweak and post on it... Here's the link anyway: cirelondielwildstar.tumblr.com


	5. Accusations and Troubled Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting this Saturday, I will start re-posting this series on Tumblr (I think I've figured it out). In the meanwhile, in-story drama!!!

The den used for the Great Gathering wasn’t one of the tallest places in the Gathering Place. Standing relatively low, it did not soar up to the clouds as the Twoleg-dens around it did. And yet the magnificent den was not dwarfed by the others, even standing more complete. Centrally located in the abandoned Twolegplace, and with stones piled in a completely different way than the rest, the bluish smooth den provided a welcome relief to the eye of the beholder.

The mediating chamber was no less vast and impressive, the rounded interior encircled, row upon row, by Twoleg-stumps used by the mediators representing the many Clans and Tribes within the Tribe of Gathering so they could be seen and heard by all. A significant number of those stumps stood empty now, because of the Tribe of Shadows. Many Clans had joined in with Birdclaw over the last couple of moons to secede from the Tribe of Gathering which had, in their eyes, grown too ponderous to be effective. It was a claim that even the staunchest supporters of the Tribe could not completely dispute.

Still, with this most important Casting of Stones scheduled, the walls of the circular chamber echoed, many voices clamoring all at once, expressing emotions from anger to regret to determination.

In the center of the chamber, standing on massive ledge, the leader of the Tribe of Gathering, Foxstar, watched and listened, taking in the tumult and showing nothing but deep concern. He was edging toward the end of his prime, whiskers beginning to turn silver and his eyes filled with moons of experience. His designated time as Tribe leader had ended several moons ago, but a series of crises had allowed him to retain his rank well beyond the usual limit of nine moons. From a distance, one might have thought him frail, but up close there could be no doubt of the strength and fortitude of this accomplished tom.

“They are afraid, Foxstar,” Foxstar’s medicine cat, Slyfoot, remarked to him. “Many have heard reports of the troubles happening within the Gathering Place, even near this very den. The Tribe of Shadows –”

Foxstar lifted his tail to quiet the nervous medicine cat. “They are a pain in the tail,” he replied. “It would seem that Birdclaw has goaded them into murderous frenzy. Or perhaps,” he mewed with apparent reflection, “their frustrations are mounting _despite_ the effort of that estimable former LightClan cat to calm them. Either way, the Tribe of Shadows must be taken seriously.”

Slyfoot started to respond again, but Foxstar placed his tail over the other’s mouth to silence him, then dipped his head to his deputy, Loudear, was calling for calm.

“Order! We shall have order!” the deputy cried, tail lashing with agitation. His large ears, twice the size of any other cat’s, twitched anxiously. Loudear was an imposing cat in the Tribe, but the noise, the multitude pf private conversations, continued.

“Mediators, please!” Loudear yowled. “Indeed, we have much to discuss. Many important issues. But the motion before us, to create an army of warriors for the Tribe of Gathering, takes precedence. That is what we will cast stones for at this time and that alone! Other business must defer.”

A few complaints came back at Loudear, and a few conversations seemed to gather momentum, but then Foxstar stepped to the front of the ledge, staring out over the assembled, and all went silent. Loudear lowered his head in deference to his leader and stepped aside.

Foxstar moved close to the edge, his ears and tail noticeably lowered, his head bowed. The curious posture only heightened the tension, making the cavernous chamber seem even more silent, if that were possible.

“My esteemed friends,” he began slowly and deliberately, but even with that effort, his voice wavered and seemed as if it would break apart. Curiosity sent quiet mews rumbling throughout the nervous cats once more. It wasn’t often that Foxstar appeared rattled.

“Excuse me,” Foxstar mewed quietly. The, a heartbeat later, he straightened and drew a deep breath, seeming to gather inner strength, which was amply reflected in his solid voice as he repeated, “My esteemed friends. I have just received some tragic and disturbing news. Berryheart, the mediator of ForestClan, … has been assassinated!”

A wave of silence rolled about the crowd; eyes went wide; jaws hung open in disbelief.

“This grievous blow is especially personal to me,” Foxstar explained. “Before I was leader of the Tribe of Gathering, I was a mediator, serving Berryheart when she was Forestspeaker of ForestClan. She was a great leader who fought for justice. So beloved was she among her Clanmates that she could have been Clan leader for rest of her life!” He gave a great sigh and a helpless purr of amusement, as if that notion had been received as purely preposterous by the idealistic Berryheart, as indeed it had. “But Berryheart believed that one’s time as a leader should be limited, and she fervently believed in the freedom of choice. Her death is a great loss to us all. We will all mourn her as a relentless champion of freedom.” The ginger tom tilted his head, his eyes lowering, and he sighed again. “And as a dear friend.”

A few conversations began, but for the most part, the reverential silence held strong, with many mediators dipping their heads in agreement with Foxstar’s eulogy.

But at that critical time, on this most important day, the grim news could not overwhelm. Foxstar watched, without surprise, as the volatile mediator of CanyonClan, Oxear, clambered atop his stump’s ledge. His head rotated slowly about, his ears twitching, his tail held high.

“How many more mediators will die before this civil strife ends?” the CanyonClan tom cried. “We must confront these rebels now, and we need a central army of warriors to do it!”

That bold statement brought many yowls of assent and dissent from the Great Gathering, and several mediators rose to their ledges at once. One, a blue tom with long fur, yowled over the others. “Why weren’t LightClan’s warriors able to stop this assassination?” demanded Dartripple, the mediator of CycloneClan. “How obvious it is that we are no longer safe under the protection of LightClan!”

Another cat’s voice sounded over Dartripple’s. “The Tribe of Gathering needs more security now!” agreed Frosttail, his ears and whiskers shaking. “Now! Before it comes to war!”

“Must I remind the mediator from CanyonClan that negotiations are continuing with the Tribe of Shadows?” Foxstar interjected. “Peace is our objective here. Not war.”

“You say this while your friend lies dead, assassinated by those same cats with whom you wish to negotiate?” Oxear asked, his eyes wide with incredulity. All around the chamber, yowls and cries erupted, with mediators arguing vehemently. Many claws were extended, ears flattened, and tails lashing at that explosive point.

Foxstar, supremely calm through it all, kept his disarming stare on Oxear.

“Did you not just name Berryheart as your friend?” Oxear screeched at him.

Foxstar simply continued to stare at the tom, a center of calm, the eye of the storm that was raging all about him.

Foxstar’s deputy rushed to the front of the ledge then, taking the cue that his leader must remain above this petulant debate if he was to be the voice of reason throughout this ferocious debate.

“Order!” Loudear cried repeatedly. “Mediators, please!”

But it went on and on, the screeching, the yowling.

Unnoticed through it all, a group of four cats approached the ForestClan stump and leapt atop, moving slowly but deliberately.

At the head of the group, Berryheart was lashing her tail with disgust at the yowling and lack of civility emanating from the huge chamber. “This is exactly why Birdclaw was able to convince so many Clans to leave,” she commented to her friend Mousemist, who stood beside her with Jayeye and Frog That Leaps From Stone.

“There are many who believe that the Tribe of Gathering has become too large and disjointed,” Mousemist agreed.

The ForestClan mediator leapt gracefully onto the perch, then turned to face the chamber at large, but the other mediators were too involved with their yowling and arguing to even notice the unexpected appearance.

Standing on the central ledge, though, Foxstar did see Berryheart. His eyes were wide with blatant shock, just for a heartbeat, but then he shook himself out of it and a purr formed in his throat.

“Noble mediators,” Berryheart meowed loudly, and the sound of her most familiar voice quieted many of the mediators, who turned to regard her. “I concur with Foxstar. At all costs, we do not want war!”

Gradually at first, but then more quickly, the mediating chamber went quiet, and then came a thunderous outburst of joyful yowls.

“It is with great surprise and joy that the Tribe of Gathering recognizes the mediator from ForestClan, Berryheart,” Foxstar declared.

Berryheart waited for the noise to subside, then began slowly and deliberately. “Only a few heartbeats ago, an attempt was made upon my life. Seven warriors were ruthlessly and senselessly murdered. I was the target, but, more important, I believe this security measure before you was the target. I have led the opposition to creating an army, but there is a cat who will stop at nothing to assure its passage.”

Joy turned to dismay and anger from many areas of the chamber as the surprising statement registered, and many others exchanged looks of confusion. Had Berryheart just accused one of them of trying to assassinate her?

As she stood there, her gaze moving about the vast, circular chamber, Berryheart knew that what she had expressed, on the surface, could be seen as an insult to many. In truth, though, she wasn’t thinking along those lines concerning the source of the assassination. She had a definite hunch, one that went against the obvious logic. The cats who would most logically want her silenced were indeed those in favor of the formation of an army for the Tribe of Gathering. But for some reason she could not put her paw on – some subconscious clues, perhaps, or just a gut feeling – Berryheart believed that the source of the attempt was exactly those who would not logically, on the surface, at least, want her silenced. She remembered Brownmoss’s warning about FieldClan reportedly joining the Tribe of Shadows.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself against the growing rancor in the audience, and steadfastly went on. “I warn you, if you choose to create this army, war will follow. I have experienced the misery of war directly; I do not wish to do so again.”

The yowls of agreement began to overpower the anger.

“This is frog-dung, I say!” Frosttail yowled above it all. “I move that we defer this Casting of Stones, immediately!” But that suggestion only led to more argument.

Berryheart looked at the LakeClan mediator, understanding his sudden desire to defer a Casting that her mere presence had cast into doubt.

“Wake up, mediators – you must wake up!” she went on, yowling over him. “If we offer the defectors violence, they can only show us violence in return! Many will lose their lives, and all will lose their freedom. This decision could well destroy the very foundation of the Tribe of Gathering! I pray you do not let fear push you into a disastrous decision. Cast your stones against this measure, which is nothing less than a declaration of war! Does any cat here want that? I cannot believe they do!”

Oxear, Frosttail, and Dartripple, still clinging to their perches, exchanged nervous glances as the commotion echoed about the chamber. The fact that Berryheart had just survived an assassination attempt and yet was here begging the Tribe of Gathering to put off creating an army against the likely perpetrators only added strength to her argument. Only elevated Berryheart in the eyes of many – and the former leader of ForestClan, having stood firm against FieldClan thirteen moons ago, was already held in high esteem by many.

At Oxear’s tail-flick, Frosttail demanded the floor, and was given it promptly by Fox star.

“By precedence of order, my motion to defer the Casting of Stones must be dealt with first,” Frosttail demanded. “That is the rule of our code!”

Berryheart glared at the LakeClan cat, her tail lashing with both anger and frustration at the obvious delaying tactic. She turned plaintively to Foxstar, but the ginger tom, though his responding gaze seemed to be sympathetic to her plight, could only flick his ear. He moved to the front of his ledge and held up his tail for order, and when the chamber was quiet enough, announced, “In view of the length of this discussion and the seriousness of this motion, we will take up these matters next sunrise. Until then, this Great Gathering is over.”

Foxstar, leader of the Tribe of Gathering, sat at the far side of his meeting chamber high above the central area of the Gathering Place, staring across at his four LightClan visitors. Across the chamber, a pair of Tribe den-guards flanked the entrance, imposing, powerful figures.

“I fear this Casting,” Foxstar remarked.

“It is unavoidable,” replied Violetlight, a tall and muscular tom, dark brown, and with penetrating eyes, sitting next to the even taller Palelight.

“And it could unravel the remainder of the Tribe of Gathering,” Foxstar mewed. “Never have I seen the mediators so at odds over any issue.”

“Few issues would carry the import of creating an army for the Tribe of Gathering,” Raccoonlight remarked. He was a large, sturdy tom, his head rounded and framed with slightly longer fur, and with shadowed hazel eyes. “The mediators are anxious and afraid, and believe that no decision will ever be more important than this one now before them.”

“And this way or that, much mending must you do,” mewed Lightstar, the smallest in physical stature, but a LightClan cat who stood tall against any opponent. Lightstar’s green eyes blinked slowly and his ears twitched subtly, showing, for those who knew him, that he was deep in thought, giving this situation his utmost attention. “Unseen is much that is here,” he mewed, and he closed his eyes in contemplation.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold off the Casting of Stones, my friends,” Foxstar explained. “And I fear that delay on this definitive issue might well erode the Tribe through attrition. More and more Clans are joining the Tribe of Shadows.”

Violetlight, a pillar of strength even within LightClan, dipped his head in understanding of the dilemma. “And yet, when the stones are cast, if the losers do break away –”

“I will not let this Tribe that has stood for countless seasons be split in two!” Foxstar declared, lashing his tail. “My negotiations will not fail!”

Violetlight held his calm, keeping his rich voice even and controlled. “But if they do, you must realize there aren’t enough LightClan warriors to protect the Clans that remain. We are keepers of the peace, not bringers of war.”

Foxstar took a few steadying breaths, trying to digest it all. “Lightstar,” he mewed, and he waited for the small grey tom to regard. “Do you really think it will come to war?”

Again Lightstar closed his eyes. “Worse than war, I fear,” he mewed. “Much worse.”

“What?” an alarmed Foxstar asked.

“Lightstar, what do you sense?” Palelight prompted.

“Impossible to see, the future is,” the small tom replied, his green eyes still looking inward. “The dark side clouds everything. But this I am sure of …” His eyes snapped open and he stared hard at Foxstar. “Do its duty, LightClan will.”

A brief look of confusion came over the Tribe leader, but before he could begin to respond to Lightstar, a yellow tabby tom stepped into the chamber, Duckfeather, another den-guard.

“The Tribe loyalists have arrived, Foxstar,” meowed Duckfeather with a respectful head-dip.

“Send them in.”

The tom left and Foxstar rose, along with the seated LightClan cats, to properly greet the distinguished visitors. They came in two groups; Berryheart walking with Jayeye, Frog, Mousemist, and Tribe deputy Loudear, followed by two other mediators, Balefur of MountainClan and Tallface of DryClan.

Every cat moved to exchange pleasant greetings, and Lightstar pointedly tapped Berryheart with his tail.

“With you, the Force is strong, young mediator,” the LightClan leader told her. “Your tragedy upon entering, terrible. To see you alive brings warm feelings to my heart.”

“Thank you, Lightstar,” she replied. “Do you have any idea who was behind this attack?”

Her question had the others turning to regard her and Lightstar directly.

Violetlight shook out his pelt and stepped forward. “Berryheart, we have nothing definitive, but our initial examination points to cats from Clans opposing your stone-cast.”

Berryheart looked to Jayeye, who flicked an ear, having no answers. They had both witnessed the disgruntlement of her opponents on this matter, but those complaints seemed a long way from the tragedy that occurred when they entered the Gathering Place. Releasing Jayeye from her gaze, she stared hard at Violetlight, wondering if it would be wise to voice her hunch at this time. She knew the controversy she might stir, knew the blatant illogical ring to her claim, but still …

“I do not wish to disagree,” she mewed, “but I think that Birdclaw was behind it.”

A stir of surprise rippled about the room, and the four LightClan cats exchanged looks that ranged from astonishment to disapproval.

“You know, Berryheart,” Violetlight mewed in his resonant and calm voice, “Birdclaw was once a LightClan warrior. He wouldn’t assassinate any cat. It’s not in his character.”

“He is an idealist,” Palelight added. “Not a murderer.” With his long legs, the white tom stood taller than any cat in the chamber, and the multiple whiskers above his brow added a measure of introspection to his imposing physical form.

Lightstar raised his tail, drawing attention to himself, and that alone exerted a calming influence over the increasingly tense mood. “In dark times, nothing is what it appears to be,” the diminutive figure remarked. “But the fact remains, Berryheart, in grave danger you are.”

Foxstar gave a dramatic sigh and walked over to a gap in the chamber wall, staring out at the misty dawn. “Lightstar,” he meowed, “may I suggest that Berryheart be placed under your Clan’s protection?”

“Do you think that a wise use of our limited resources at this stressful time?” Balefur was quick to interject, flicking his tail. “Multiple Clans have gone over fully to the Tribe of Shadows, and many more may soon join them. The cats of LightClan are our –”

“Foxstar,” Berryheart interrupted, “if I may comment. I do not believe the –”

“Situation is that serious,” Foxstar finished for her. “No, but I do, Berryheart.”

“Foxstar, please!” she pleaded. “I do not want any more guards!”

Foxstar stared at her as would an overprotective parent, a look that Berryheart might have viewed as condescending from any other cat. “I realize all too well that additional security might be disruptive for you,” he began, and he paused, and then a look came over him as if he had just struck upon a logical and acceptable compromise. “But perhaps some cat you are familiar with, an old friend.” Purring cleverly, Foxstar looked to Violetlight and Lightstar. “Sunleap?” he finished with a dip of his head, and his purr only grew louder when Violetlight dipped his head in return.

“That’s possible,” the LightClan tom confirmed. “He has just returned from a border dispute in HillClan.”

“You must remember him, Berryheart,” Foxstar mewed, swishing his tail as if it was a done deal. “He watched over you during the FieldClan conflict.”

“This is not necessary, Foxstar,” Berryheart meowed determinedly, but Foxstar didn’t relinquish his pride in the least, showing clearly that he knew well how to defeat the independent mediator’s argument.

“Do it for me, Berryheart. Please. I will rest easier. We had a big scare already. The thought of losing you is unbearable.”

Several times, Berryheart started to respond, but how could she possibly utter anything to deny the Tribe leader’s expressed concern? She gave a great defeated sigh, dropping her tail, and the LightClan cats turned to leave.

“I will have Sunleap report to you immediately, Berryheart,” Violetlight informed her.

As he passed, Lightstar leaned in close to the she-cat and hissed so that only she could hear, “To little about yourself you worry, Berryheart, and too much about rules and code. Be mindful of your danger, Berryheart. Accept our help.”

They all left the chamber, and Berryheart stared at the entrance and the flanking den-guards for a long while.

Behind her, at the back of the chamber, Foxstar watched them all.

“It troubles me to hear Birdclaw’s name mentioned in such a manner, Lightstar,” Violetlight mewed to his leader as the LightClan cats made their way back to their camp. “And from one as esteemed as Berryheart. Any mistrust of LightClan, or even former LightClan warriors, in times such as these can be disastrous.”

“Deny Birdclaw’s involvement in the Tribe of Shadows, we cannot,” Lightstar reminded him.

“Nor can we deny that he began in the Tribe of Shadows because of ideals,” Violetlight argued. “He was once our friend – that we must not forget – and to hear him slandered and named as an assassin –”

“Not named,” Lightstar mewed. “But darkness there is, about us all, and in that darkness, nothing is what it seems.”

“But it’s bee-brained to me that Birdclaw would make an attempt on the life of Berryheart, when she is the one most adamantly opposed to the creation of an army. Would the Tribe of Shadows not wish her well in her endeavors? Would they not believe that she is, however unintentionally, an ally to their cause? Or are we really to believe that they want a war with the Tribe of Gathering?”

Lightstar’s head lowered, seeming very weary, and his eyes slowly closed. “More is here than we can know,” he mewed very quietly. “Clouded is the Force. Troubling it is.”

Violetlight dismissed his forthcoming reflexive response, a further defense of his old friend Birdclaw. Birdclaw, once Birdlight, had been among the most accomplished of LightClan’s sages, respected among the Council, a learner of the older and, some would assert, more profound LightClan philosophies and styles, including a fighting style that was more precise and direct than the typical swift circling movements currently used by most of the current warriors. What a blow it had been to the Clan, and to Violetlight, when Birdclaw had relinquished his sage name and walked away from them, and for many of the same reasons the deserting Clans were now trying to walk away: the perception that the Tribe of Gathering had grown too ponderous and unresponsive to the needs of the individual, even of individual Clans.

It was no less troubling to Violetlight concerning Birdclaw, as it was, no doubt, to Berryheart and Foxstar concerning the Tribe of Shadows, that some of the arguments against the Tribe of Gathering were not without merit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment below so I know how I'm doing. (My only main source of commentary at the moment is my editor and she's pretty lenient....)


	6. Nervous Reunion and Muddled Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I'm so sorry this was late! We've been in the middle of renovating so I ran out of time to finish....

As the sun set below the horizon, gradually replaced by the lights of the twinkling stars seen in Silverpelt, the Gathering Place took on a vastly different appearance. Under the dark evening sky, the old Twoleg-dens seemed to become gigantic natural cliffs, though the lack of greenery within the Gathering Place was heartbreaking. Even the wind at the higher levels of the structures sounded mournful as it moved through the stone dens.

As Sunleap and Skypaw waited outside the section of Twoleg-den set aside for the ForestClan mediator’s use, the LightClan warrior was indeed pondering such profound truths as the subtle change of day to night. Beside him, though, his young apprentice certainly was not. Skypaw was about to see Berryheart again, the she-cat who had captured his heart and soul when he was but six moons old and had never let go.

“You seem a little on edge, Skypaw,” Sunleap noted as he observed the younger tom.

“Not at all,” came the unconvincing reply.

“I haven’t seen you this nervous since we fell into that badger den.”

“ _You_ fell into that nightmare, mentor, and I rescued you. Remember?”

Sunleap’s little distraction seemed to have the desired effect, and the pair shared a much-needed purr of amusement. Coming out of it, though, Skypaw remained obviously on edge.

“You’re trembling,” Sunleap noted. “Take a deep breath. _Relax_.”

“I haven’t seen her in thirteen moons.”

“Skypaw, relax,” Sunleap reiterated. “She’s not Forestspeaker anymore.”

They were permitted entry and Sunleap started away, while Skypaw, behind him, mewed under his breath, “That’s not why I’m nervous.”

As the pair padded into the main chamber, a lanky ginger tabby tom padded into the chamber from the opposite side. The three regarded each other for just a heartbeat, and then the lanky tom, losing all sense of reserve and propriety, began hopping around like a kit.

“Sunleap! Sunleap! Sunleap!” Frog cried, ears flapping. “Me so happy to see you!”

Sunleap dipped his head politely, though his glance at Skypaw did show that he was a bit embarrassed, and he patted a paw gently in the air, trying to calm the excitable tom. “It’s good to see you, too, Frog.”

Frog continued to hop about for another heartbeat, then suddenly, and with obvious great effort, calmed down. “And this, me guessing, is your apprentice,” he went on, and the Tribe of Deep Waters tom seemed to have much more control of himself. For a heartbeat, at least, until he took a good look at the young apprentice, and all pretense melted away. “Noooooooo!” he squeaked, jumping about again. “Skypaw? Little Skypaw?” Frog paused right in front of the apprentice, studying him nose to tail. “Nooooooooo! You so big! Me no believing!”

Now it was Skypaw’s turn to be embarrassed. Politely, he offered no resistance as the overexcited Tribe cat leaned against him and purred loudly, making his ears ring.

“Hi, Frog,” Skypaw managed to meow, and Frog just continued on, hopping up and down and crying his name, and squeaking loudly with joy. 

It seemed as if it would go on forever, but then Sunleap gently but firmly nudged Frog’s shoulder with his paw. “We have come to speak to Berryheart. Could you show us to her?”

Frog stopped bouncing and looked at Sunleap intently, his large eyes taking on a more serious gleam. “She expecting you.” His head bobbed a bit more, then he spun around and led the way out.

The meeting chamber was quite large and comfortable, with sunlight streaming in through large holes in the outside walls. Jayeye and Mousemist stood to one side of a flat stone covered in feathers, soft moss, and strips of Twoleg-pelts, appearing calm and relaxed as they conversed quietly with each other. On the other side stood Robinleap, who waved her tail in warm greeting to Frog and the cats following him.

Skypaw, though, didn’t see any of them. He focused on the fourth cat in the chamber, Berryheart, and on her alone, and if he had ever held any doubts that she was as beautiful as he remembered her, they were washed away, then and there. His eyes roamed the mediator’s smaller and stately frame, taking in every detail. He saw her warm brown eyes and wanted to lose himself in them. He saw her smooth white fur and wanted to keep it clean and soft for eternity. Skypaw closed his eyes for just a heartbeat and inhaled deeply, and he could smell her again, the scent that had been burned into him as Berryheart’s.

It took every bit of willpower he could muster to walk in slowly and respectfully behind Sunleap, and not merely rush in and melt in front of Berryheart … and yet, paradoxically, it took every bit of willpower to move his legs, which were suddenly seeming so very weak, and take that first step into the room, that first step toward her.

“Me here. Look! Look!” screeched Frog, hardly the announcement Sunleap would have preferred, but one that he knew to expect from the emotionally volatile Tribe cat. “The LightClan cats arrived.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Berryheart,” Sunleap mewed, moving to stand before the beautiful young mediator.

Standing behind his mentor, Skypaw continued to stare at the she-cat, to note her every move. She did glance at him once, though very briefly, and he detected no recognition in her eyes.

Berryheart approached and dipped her head toward Sunleap. “It has been far too long, Sunleap. I’m so glad our paths crossed again. But I must warn you that I think your presence here is unnecessary.”

“I am sure that the cats of the Council have their reasons,” Sunleap replied.

Berryheart’s eyes bore a resigned, accepting expression at that answer, but a look of curiosity replaced it as she glanced again behind the LightClan warrior, to the younger tom standing patiently. She took a step to the side, so that she was directly in front of Skypaw.

“Skypaw?” she asked, ears lowered in pure incredulousness. Her purr and the flash in her eyes showed that she needed no answer.

For just a flicker, Skypaw felt her spirit leap.

“Skypaw,” Berryheart meowed again. “Can it be? My goodness how you’ve grown!” She looked him over, tilting her head back to emphasize his height, and he realized that he now towered over her.

That did little to bolster Skypaw’s confidence, though, so lost was he in the beauty of Berryheart. Her purr grew louder, a clear sign that she was glad to see him, but he missed it, or the implications of it, at least. “So have you,” he answered awkwardly, as if he had to force himself to do so. “Grown more beautiful, I mean.” He shook out his pelt and stood taller. “And much shorter,” he teased, trying unsuccessfully to sound in control.

Skypaw noted Sunleap’s disapproving look, but Berryheart mrrowed with laughter, dispelling any tension.

“Oh, Skypaw, you’ll always be that small kit I knew in the Great-Sand-Place,” she mewed, and if she had extended her claws and sliced his legs out from under him, she would not have shortened Skypaw anymore.

He looked down, his embarrassment only heightened by the looks he knew that both Sunleap and Jayeye were throwing his way.

“Our presence will be invisible,” he heard Sunleap assure Berryheart.

“I’m very grateful that you’re here, Sunleap,” Jayeye put in. “The situation is more dangerous than Berryheart will admit.”

“I don’t need any more guards,” Berryheart meowed sharply, addressing Jayeye initially, but turning to regard Sunleap as she continued. “I need answers. I want to know who is trying to kill me. I believe that there might lie an issue of the utmost importance to the Tribe of Gathering. There is something more here …” She stopped as Sunleap flicked his tail, ears flattened slightly.

“We’re here to _protect_ you, Berryheart, not to start an investigation,” he mewed in calm and deliberate tones, but even as he finished, Skypaw contradicted him.

“We can find out who’s trying to kill you, Berryheart,” the apprentice blurted out. “I promise you.”

As soon as he finished, Skypaw recognized his error, one that clearly showed in the glare that Sunleap sent his way. He had been working out a response to Berryheart in his thoughts, and had hardly even registered his mentor’s explanation before he had uttered the obviously errant promise. Now he could only lower his ears and his embarrassed gaze.

“We are _not_ going to exceed our orders, my very young apprentice!” Sunleap meowed sharply, and Skypaw was stung to be so scolded publicly – especially in front of this particular audience.

“I meant, in the interest of protecting her, mentor, of course.”

His justification sounded inane even to himself.

“We are _not_ going through this exercise again, Skypaw,” Sunleap continued. “You _will_ pay attention to my lead.”

“But, mentor,” Skypaw mewed, trying desperately to regain some footing and credibility in front of Berryheart, “individual protection is a duty better suited for that particular cat’s Clan and Tribe warriors, not LightClan warriors. So wouldn’t an investigation be _implied_ in our orders?”

“We will do _exactly_ as the Council has instructed,” Sunleap countered. “And you _will_ learn your place, young one.”

“Perhaps with merely your presence about me, the mysteries surrounding this threat will be revealed,” offered Berryheart, ever the mediator. She looked warmly between Sunleap and Skypaw, an invitation for civility, and when both stood down, visibly relaxing, she added, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will retire.”

They all dipped their heads respectfully as Berryheart and Mousemist exited the chamber, and then Sunleap stared hard at his young apprentice again, neither seeming overly pleased with the other.

“Well, I know that I’m glad to have you here,” Jayeye offered, moving closer to the pair. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but Berryheart can’t have too much protection right now. Your friends on LightClan’s Council seem to think that dissenting mediators might have something to do with this, but I can’t really agree with that.”

“What have you learned?” Skypaw asked.

Sunleap threw him a look of warning.

“We’ll be better prepared to protect Berryheart if we have some idea of what we’re up against,” Skypaw explained to his mentor, logic he knew that Sunleap had to accept as reasonable.

“Not so much as a whisker,” Jayeye admitted. “Berryheart leads the opposition to the creation of an army for the Tribe of Gathering. She’s very determined to deal with the Tribe of Shadows through negotiation and not by force, but the attempts on her life, even though they’ve failed, have only strengthened the opposition to her viewpoint.”

“And since the Tribe of Shadows would not logically wish to see an army formed against them …” Sunleap reasoned.

“We’re left without a clue,” Robinleap mewed, joining the conversation. “In any such incident, the first questioning eyes turn toward Birdclaw and the Tribe of Shadows.” Sunleap’s ears lowered, and she quickly added, “Or to some of those loyal to them, at least. But why they’d go after Berryheart is any cat’s guess.”

“And we’re _not_ here to guess, but merely to protect,” Sunleap meowed, tail lashing to show he was finished with this particular line of discussion.

Jayeye flicked his ear, hearing him clearly. “I’ll have warriors guarding every level of the den, and I’ll be at the entrance.”

Jayeye left then, and Sunleap was led around the conjoining chambers by Robinleap, trying to get a feel for the place. Skypaw started to do likewise, but he stopped when he padded past Frog.

“Me bursting with happiness seeing you again, Skypaw.”

“She didn’t even recognize me,” Skypaw mewed, staring at the entrance Berryheart had left through. He lowered his ears and tail despondently and turned to the Tribe cat. “I’ve thought about her every day since we parted, and she’s forgotten me completely.”

“Why you saying that?” Frog asked.

“You saw her,” Skypaw replied.

“She happy,” the Tribe cat assured him. “Happier than me seeing her in a long time. These are bad times, Skypaw. Very bad times!”

Skypaw flicked his tail and started to repeat his distress, but he noted Sunleap moving toward him and wisely held his tongue.

Except that his observant mentor had already discerned the conversation.

“You’re focusing on the negative again,” he meowed to Skypaw. “Be mindful of your thoughts. She was pleased to see us – leave it at that. Now, let’s check how secure it is here. We have much to do.”

Skypaw dipped his head. “Yes, mentor.”

He could vocalize his compliance because he had to, but the young apprentice could not dismiss that which was in his heart and in his thoughts.

Berryheart sat near an opening in her nesting chamber, staring outside but not really seeing anything. Her thoughts were replaying again and again the image of Skypaw, the look he had given her. She heard him again, “… grown more beautiful,” and though Berryheart was undeniably that, it wasn’t something she was used to hearing. Since she had been a young kit, Berryheart had had an interest in affairs within and without of ForestClan. Most of the toms she had come into contact with had been more concerned with what she could bring to them in practical terms than with her beauty, or, for that matter, with any true personal feelings for her. As Forestspeaker and now as a mediator, Berryheart was well aware that she drew toms in ways deeper than physical attraction, in ways deeper than any emotional bond.

 _Or perhaps **not** deeper than the latter,_ she considered to herself, for she could not deny the intensity in Skypaw’s eyes as he had looked at her.

_But what did it mean?_

She saw him again, in her thoughts. And clearly. Her mental eye roamed over his lean and strong frame, stiff with the intensity that she had always admired, and yet with his eyes sparkling with joy, with mischief, with …

_With longing?_

That thought stopped the she-cat. Her head turned to a reflective Twoleg-thing on the other side of the chamber, and she sat there, staring at her reflection, judging her own appearance as Skypaw might.

After a few slow heartbeats, Berryheart flicked her tail, telling herself it was bee-brained. Skypaw was a LightClan cat now. That was their dedication and their oath, and those things, above all else, were things Berryheart admired.

How could he even look at her in such a manner?

So it was all her imagination.

Or was it her fantasy?

Amused and exasperated at herself, Berryheart began to groom her fur methodically.


	7. Second Attempts and Darkened Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you read the previous chapter (which was supposed to be Sunday's update) before this one.

Grey fur moving wildly in the wind, sides and shoulders covered in scars from countless battles and escapes, the rogue stood easily on the ledge, high above the stone ground of the Gathering Place. A long scratch ran between his hazel eyes and down his muzzle. His perch seemed somewhat precarious, considering the wind at this height, but to one as agile and skilled as Slate, and with a penchant for getting himself into and out of difficult places, this was nothing out of the ordinary.

Right on time, he heard movement scrabbling from below him. Slate’s associate, Weasel, dipped her head to him as she climbed up, padding lithely onto the ledge to join him. She had multiple scars across her face. All had shown the amount of trouble she had faced and come out of alive. Her enemies were unable to claim likewise.

Rogues were not trusted cats, for obvious reasons.

“You know that we failed?” Slate asked, getting right to the point.

“You told me to kill those entering the side entrance,” Weasel meowed. “I got the stones to fall, but they used a decoy. The cats in that group are all dead.”

Slate fixed her with a dry stare, and didn’t bother to call her explanation a dodge. “We’ll have to try something more subtle this time. My ‘friend’ is getting impatient.” As he finished, he pushed a wood Twoleg-thing toward Weasel that seemed to move around on its own. A careful inspection through a whisker-thin gap revealed a pair of huge bugs that looked like curling-bugs as long as her tail and much thicker.

“Centipedes,” the tom explained. “A single bite from either is lethal.”

As Weasel examined the marvelous little murderers more closely, her green eyes sparkling with excitement, and a pleased purr formed in her throat. She looked back at Slate and dipped her head.

Certain that she understood, Slate flicked his tail and started to move away. He paused a fox-length away, and looked back at his assigned assassin.

“There can be _no more mistakes_ this time,” he meowed.

The she-cat flicked an ear, carefully gathering up the Twoleg-thing.

“Be careful with those,” Slate instructed, and he headed away.

Weasel turned to wind her way back down. Her mind was already formulating a plan. And she knew just where to go.

Off to the side, Slate watched approvingly and sped away. As a trained killer, whose sole purpose in life was to end others’ lives, Weasel did bring some advantages to this job, he had to admit.

The LightClan camp was in a huge Twoleg-den atop the tallest hill outside the Gathering Place. Unlike so many of the abandoned Twoleg-dens below, this one was mostly together and was strikingly beautiful, with tall, smooth stones holding up the cavernous roof. The walls were covered in colors, strange shapes, and the hard material the Clan’s apprentices, warriors, and sages used for their Force-Crystals.

Inside, the den was no different. This was a place of contemplation, a place whose design invited the mind to wander and to explore, a place whose many colors themselves asked for interpretation. Many LightClan cats, past and present, added berry-juice of different colors to the walls, carefully placed to depict images reflecting on the thoughts of those represented.

Violetlight and Lightstar padded slowly along one of the massive tunnels, light streaming through holes along one wall.

“Why couldn’t we see this attack on Berryheart?” Violetlight pondered, ears tilted down. “This should have been no surprise to the wary, and easy for us to predict.”

“Hiding the future is this disturbance in the Force,” Lightstar replied. The diminutive leader seemed tired.

Violetlight understood well the source of that weariness. “The prophecy is coming true. The dark side is growing.”

“And only those who have turned to the dark side can sense the possibilities of the future,” Lightstar mewed. “Only by prodding the dark side can we see.”

Violetlight spent a heartbeat digesting that remark, for what Lightstar referred to was no small thing. Not at all. Journeys to the edges of the dark side were not to be taken lightly. Even more dire, the fact that Lightstar believed that the disturbance all the LightClan cats had sensed in the Force was so entrenched in the dark side was truly foreboding.

“It’s been thirteen moons and DarkClan still has not shown itself,” Violetlight remarked, daring to utter it aloud. The cats of LightClan didn’t like to even mention DarkClan, their direst of enemies. Many times in the past, they had dared hope that DarkClan had been eradicated, their foul stench cleansed from existence, and so they all would have liked to deny the existence of the mysterious dark Force-users.

But they could not. There could be no doubt and no denying that the cat who had slain Moonlight those thirteen moons before in Green-Trees was a warrior of DarkClan.

“Do you think DarkClan is behind this present disturbance?” Violetlight dared to ask.

“Out there, they are,” Lightstar mewed with resignation. “A certainty that is.”

Lightstar was referring to the prophecy, of course, that the dark side would rise and that one would be born who would bring balance to the Force and to all Clans. Such a potential chosen one was now known among them, and that, too, brought more than a little trepidation to this hallowed den.

“Do you think Sunleap’s apprentice will be able to bring balance to the Force?” Violetlight asked.

Lightstar stopped walking and slowly turned to regard his deputy, his eyes showing a range of emotions that reminded the dark brown tom that they didn’t know what bringing balance to the Force might truly mean.

“Only if he chooses to follow his destiny,” Lightstar replied, and as with Violetlight’s question, the answer hung in the air between them, a spoken belief that could only lead to more uncertainty.

Both Lightstar and Violetlight understood the places that some of their Clanmates, at least, might have to travel to find the true answers, and those places, emotional stops and not physical, could well test all of them to the very limits of their abilities and sensibilities.

They resumed their walk, the only sound the patter of their pawsteps. In their ears, both toms heard the ominous echo of the small leader’s dire words.

_“Only by probing the dark side can we see.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And don't forget to comment!


	8. Dreams and Close Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I missed Sunday's post (again). I was helping my dad put siding on a guest house all weekend.

The request for entry was not unexpected; somehow, Berryheart had known that Skypaw would turn up as soon as the opportunity presented itself. She started toward the entrance, but paused and smoothed her chest-fur, aware suddenly that her pelt looked somewhat unkempt.

Her movements again struck her as curious, though, for never before had Berryheart harbored any feelings of orderliness outside of important meetings.

Still, she groomed herself quickly before moving forward, finding, predictably, Skypaw standing before her.

“Hello,” he mewed, and it seemed as if he could hardly draw his breath.

“Is everything alright?”

Skypaw stuttered over a response. “Oh, yes,” he finally managed. “Yes, my mentor has gone to the lower levels to check on Jayeye’s other guards, but all seems quiet.”

“You sound disappointed.”

Skypaw ducked his head in embarrassment.

“You don’t enjoy this,” Berryheart remarked.

“There is nowhere else in all the world I’d rather be,” Skypaw blurted, and it was Berryheart’s turn to duck her head.

“But this … idleness,” she reasoned, and Skypaw dipped his head in agreement as he caught on.

“We should be more active in our search for the assassin,” he insisted. “To sit back and wait is to invite disaster.”

“Sunleap does not agree.”

“Sunleap is bound by the exact phrasing of the orders,” Skypaw explained. “He won’t take a chance on doing anything that isn’t explicitly asked of him by the Council.”

Berryheart tilted her head and considered this impetuous young tom more carefully. Was not discipline a primary lesson of all LightClan cats? Were they not bound, strictly so, within the structure of their Clan and their Code?

“Sunleap is not like his own mentor,” Skypaw mewed. “Moonlight understood the need for independent thinking and initiative – otherwise, he would have left me in the Great-Sand-Place.”

“And you are more like Moonlight was?” Berryheart asked.

“I accept the duties I am given, and I do the best I can to resolve every problem completely,” was the strongest admission the young tom would offer.

“And so just sitting around guarding _me_ is not your idea of fun.”

“We could be doing more than we are now,” Skypaw mewed, and there was a strange edge to his voice, one that intrigued the she-cat.

“If we catch the assassin, we might find the root of these attempts,” the LightClan apprentice explained quickly. “Either way, you will be safer, and our duties will be made far easier.”

Berryheart’s mind whirled as she tried to sort out Skypaw’s thoughts, and his motivations. He was surprising her at every turn, considering that he was a LightClan apprentice, and yet, given the fire that she clearly saw burning behind his blue eyes, he was not surprising her. She saw trouble brewing there, in those simmering and too-passionate eyes. But even more than that, she saw excitement and the promise of adventure.

And, perhaps, the promise of finding out who it was that was trying to kill her.

Sunleap stepped into the lower chamber, warily, glancing left and right. He noted the two assigned guards, alert and ready, and dipped his head in approval. Every tunnel and chamber had been like this throughout the massive den, and in this particular area, above, below, and near Berryheart’s assigned den, the place was locked down tight.

Jayeye had been given command of many den-guards, and he had situated them well, overseeing as fine a defensive perimeter as Sunleap had ever witnessed. The LightClan warrior took great comfort in that, of course, and knew that the ForestClan warrior was making his assignment easier.

But Sunleap could not relax. He had heard about the initial attack in great detail from Jayeye, and considering the many precautions that had been taken to protect the group – everything from false information on which entrance they were using to the forward patrol – these assassins could not be underestimated. They were good and they were well connected, to be sure.

And, likely, they were stubborn.

To get at the ForestClan mediator through the many tunnels of this den, though, would take an army.

Sunleap dipped his head to the guards and padded a circuit of this lower level then, satisfied, started heading back up.

Berryheart took a deep breath, her thoughts lost in the last images of Skypaw as he had left the chamber. Images of her sister Sunbranch flitted about her, almost as if she could hear Sunbranch teasing her already.

The she-cat shook all of the thoughts, of Sunbranch and particularly of Skypaw, away and motioned to Bluestripe, the tired young tom standing impassively by the entrance. She noted with concern how he swayed slightly on his paws.

“Make yourself a nest and get comfortable,” she instructed kindly.

Bluestripe replied nervously, “But I’m supposed to stay right here guarding the entrance. Are you sure?”

“Go ahead, Bluestripe. It’s all right. We have more than enough protection here, and you look dead on your paws.”

Bluestripe protested for a heartbeat longer, but moved to do as she instructed and gathered some material by the wall nearest the entrance.

Berryheart looked back to the opening, recalling again the last images of Skypaw, her tall and lean LightClan protector. She could see his shining blue eyes as surely as if he was standing before her, full of intensity, watching over her more carefully than any other cat ever could.

Skypaw stood in the central chamber of the ForestClan den, absorbing the silence around him, using the lack of physical noise to bolster his mental connection to that more subtle realm of the Force, feeling the life about him as clearly as if all his physical senses were attuned to it.

His eyes were closed, but he could see the area about him clearly enough, could sense any disturbance in the Force.

Skypaw’s eyes snapped open wide, his gaze darting about the chamber, and he activated the Force-Crystal on his right forepaw.

Or almost did, stopping fast when Sunleap padded in.

Sunleap looked about curiously, his gaze settling on Skypaw. “Jayeye has more than enough guards down below,” he mewed. “No assassin will try that way. Any activity up here?”

“Quiet as a Twoleg ruin,” Skypaw replied. “I don’t like just waiting here for something to happen.”

Sunleap shook out his fur and flicked his tail, a movement showing his resignation concerning Skypaw’s predictability, and took another look around. His expression, shifting from curious to confused to concerned, told Skypaw much: He knew that Sunleap couldn’t see any obvious guard at the entrance of Berryheart’s nesting chamber and that the she-cat, herself, had moved her nest out of sight.

The LightClan warrior’s eyes asked the question without the need to vocalize it.

“Berryheart … the mediator, told the guard to rest,” the LightClan apprentice explained. “I don’t think she likes being watched while she sleeps.”

Sunleap’s muscles tensed and he let out a little growl. “What is she thinking? Her protection is of most importance, and is compromised –”

“Bluestripe was wounded in the attack and she was concerned for him, but he’ll still do his duty. If there’s an intruder, he’ll let us know,” Skypaw explained, trying to calm Sunleap before his concern could gain any real momentum.

“It’s not an intruder I’m worried about,” Sunleap countered. “Or not merely an intruder. There are many ways to kill a mediator.”

“I know, but she also wants us to catch this assassin,” Skypaw mewed, his tone determined, stubborn even. “So shouldn’t we, mentor?”

“You’re using her as bait?” Sunleap meowed incredulously, his eyes widening with shock and disbelief.

“It was her idea,” Skypaw protested, his tone only slightly reluctant. “Don’t worry. No harm will come to her. I can sense everything going on in that chamber. Just trust me.”

“It’s too risky,” Sunleap scolded. “Besides, your senses aren’t _that_ attuned, my young apprentice.”

Skypaw refused to flinch, and responded instead with a more suggestive tone. “And yours are, yes?”

Sunleap could not deny the look of intrigue that flitted across his eyes. “Possibly,” he admitted.

Skypaw flicked an ear, and closed his eyes again, falling into the sensations of the Force, following them to Berryheart, who was sleeping quietly. He wished that he could see her with his actual eyes, watching over her that way. But he had to settle for this, for just feeling her life energy in the Force.

A place of warmth, it was to him.

In a different way, Berryheart was thinking of Skypaw, as well. He was there beside her, in her dreams.

She saw the fighting that she knew would soon ensue at the Great Gathering, the screeching and yowling, the threats and the loud objections. How badly it drained her.

Skypaw was there.

Her dream became a nightmare, some unseen assassin chasing her, thorns and stones and freezing rain battering her, and her paws seemed as if they were stuck in deep mud.

But Skypaw rushed past, his right foreclaws blazing blue like his Force-Crystal, lunging for her attacker.

Berryheart shifted a bit and gave a little groan, as uncomfortable with the identity of her rescuer as she was with the presence of the assassin. She didn’t truly awaken, though, just thrashed a bit and raised her head, opening her eyes only briefly before tucking her face beneath her tail.

She didn’t see the small black tom crouching on the slender ledge right outside one of the openings in the outer wall of her nesting chamber. She didn’t see the tom reach carefully to grab a strange Twoleg-thing from behind him, or the brief fumble with it. She didn’t see the careful lowering of the wood Twoleg-thing onto the chamber ground behind a large stone, nor did she hear the faint sound of it touching the ground.

Over by the entrance, Bluestripe raised his head sharply. He looked around the chamber carefully, eyes narrowed as he examined the opening opposite Berryheart’s nest.

But then, apparently detecting nothing amiss, the tom dropped his head back down, facing the entrance.

From his position outside, the small tom reached down and flicked something on top of the Twoleg-thing, and crawling out of it, into Berryheart’s nesting chamber, came a pair of centipedes, like two dark maggots with lines of striped legs along their sides and nasty jaws. Dangerous as those jaws looked, though, the true danger of the centipedes lay inside them, a venom most deadly. The vicious creatures crawled out from the shadows and started immediately toward the nest with the sleeping she-cat.

“You look tired,” Sunleap mewed to Skypaw in the adjacent chamber.

The apprentice, still standing, opened his eyes and came out of his meditative trance. He took a couple heartbeats to register the statement, and then flicked an ear, not disagreeing. “I don’t sleep well anymore.”

This was hardly news to Sunleap. “Because of your mother?” he asked.

“I don’t know why I keep dreaming of her now,” Skypaw answered, lashing his tail in frustration. “I haven’t seen her since I was a kit.”

“Your love for her was, and remains, deep,” Sunleap mewed. “That is hardly reason for despair.”

“But these are more than …” Skypaw started to respond, but he stopped and sighed and lowered his tail. “Are they dreams, or are they visions? Are they images of what has been, or do they tell of something that is yet to be?”

“Or are they just dreams?” Sunleap mewed, purring gently. “Not every dream is a premonition, some vision or some mystical connection. Some dreams are just … dreams, and even LightClan cats have dreams, young apprentice.”

Skypaw didn’t seem very convinced of that. He just flicked his ear again.

“Dreams pass in time,” Sunleap told him.

“I’d rather dream of Berryheart,” Skypaw admitted with a warm purr. “Just being around her again is … heartwarming. A breath of clean air.”

Sunleap flattened his ears, silencing the younger tom’s purr. “Mind your thoughts, Skypaw,” he scolded in no uncertain tone. “They betray you. You’ve made a commitment to LightClan, a commitment not easily broken, and our Clan’s laws on such relationships is uncompromising. Attachment is forbidden.” He gave a little derisive snort and looked toward the sleeping mediator’s nesting-chamber. “And don’t forget that she has her own Clan’s code and the Tribe of Gathering’s code to follow.”

“Mediators aren’t forbidden from following their own hearts, mentor,” Skypaw protested strongly.

Sunleap eyed him carefully. “But they are restricted to their own Clans. It’s in _every_ Clan’s code.”

“But wouldn’t their responsibilities to the Tribe …” The young apprentice trailed off, his eyes widening with shock.

“I sense it, too,” Sunleap breathed, and the two LightClan cats jolted into motion.

Inside the nesting chamber, the centipedes crawled slowly and deliberately over the edge of Berryheart’s nest, jaws clicking excitedly as they got closer to the sleeping she-cat.

Bluestripe, catching sight of the threat, flew up with a yowl of alarm, scrambling forward as Sunleap and Skypaw raced into the chamber.

Berryheart awoke, her eyes growing wide, sucking in her breath in terror as the wicked creatures stood up and hissed, and came at her.

Or would have, except that Skypaw was there, outpacing the others, his glowing claws slashing across once and again, slicing both creatures in half.

“Rogue!” Sunleap cried, and Skypaw, Berryheart, and Bluestripe turned to see him rushing for one of the openings. There, on the slender ledge, was the small would-be assassin, scrabbling to flee.

Sunleap lunged toward the opening, landing on the fragile ledge, causing it to crack beneath his weight. He reached into the Force as he flung himself away, using it to extend his jump, to send him far through the air to catch hold of a larger ledge. The small tom startled at the LightClan tom’s quick reaction.

Off raced the assassin, with Sunleap fast to follow.

“Skypaw?” Berryheart asked, turning to him. When she saw him return the look, and saw a flicker of something in his blue eyes, she shifted to rise.

“Stay here!” Skypaw instructed. “Watch her, Bluestripe!” He rushed for the chamber’s entrance, only to stop abruptly as Jayeye, Mousemist, and Robinleap, along with two other guards, charged in.

“See to her!” was all that Skypaw explained as he scrambled past them, running full out for the den-tunnels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment! I really rely on commentary


	9. Chasing Assassins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double post! (Just trying to make up for the missed post on Sunday)

Knowledgeable as he was about the Gathering Place, Slink repeatedly batted stones and slates behind him as he ran, sending them flying toward Sunleap.

The LightClan warrior gritted through the pain every time a stone hit, having no alternative but to keep going. He knew he shouldn’t look down, but he did so anyway, to see the ground far, far below.

Another strike nearly sent him tumbling off and toward that distant ground. His claws scraped against the slates as he fought to catch his balance. 

“Not good, not good!” Sunleap yowled over and over again as he frantically worked to keep himself from sliding off the ledge. Finally, he stopped sliding. The LightClan warrior surged back into the chase. Slink wasted no time leaping from ledge to ledge, throwing more debris at his pursuer, but not shaking the stubborn tom.

Skypaw was in no mood to stop and explain anything. He rushed past every cat, ignoring their yowls of outrage and confusion as he made his way down. After what felt like moons, he finally scrambled out of the den. 

“Yikes!” he meowed as he nearly ran headlong into a pair of mediators. He quickly righted himself and spun about looking up at the ledges high above the ground. He turned to them.

“How do you get up there?” he asked.

“There’s a large pile of stones that leads up part of the way up,” one responded at once.

“It’s halfway across the Gathering Place, though,” the other added before pointing the way with his tail.

Skypaw dipped his head to them and raced in the indicated direction. He ran frantically, left and then right, finally spotting the stone pile in question. Forward he ran, then bolted up the pile and leapt for the nearest ledge. He caught the edge with his forepaws and desperately clawed his way up.

He tried to get his bearings as he rose. Where was he in relation to the mediators’ den he’d come from? And which side had Sunleap gone after the assassin? And in what direction had they run from the den?

As he tried to sort it all out, Skypaw realized that only one of two things could possibly put him on Sunleap’s trail, dumb luck or …

The apprentice fell into the Force yet again, searching for the sensation that he could identify as his mentor.

Weasel crouched atop a shadowed ledge, impatiently flicking her tail back and forth. Her green eyes narrowed into slits as she scanned the series of ledges around her. She had no doubts about her abilities regarding her assignments and knew how to get close enough to any cat before they realized their error.

Those skills weren’t going to help her with this assignment, though, and Weasel knew it. This time she was out to kill a Clan mediator, a she-cat who was very well guarded by cats absolutely devoted to her, as protective of her as a parent might be to a kit. Weasel wondered what this she-cat might have done to so invoke the wrath of those who’d given her this assignment.

Or at least, she started to wonder, as she had started to wonder several times since Slate had enlisted her aid in killing the ForestClan mediator. The trained assassin never truly let her thoughts travel down that path. It wasn’t her business. She was not a moral guide for any cat, not one to decide the value of her assignment or the justice or injustice involved – she was just a claw or a fang. She was the extension of another cat’s paw and nothing more.

Slate had bade her to kill Berryheart, and so she would kill Berryheart, leave and collect her due, and go on to the next assignment. It was clean and it was simple.

Weasel could hardly believe that the collapsing stone trap she had managed to create at the side entrance to the Gathering Place had not done the deed, but she had taken that lesson to heart, had come to understand that the weaknesses of the ForestClan mediator were not easily discerned and exploited.

The she-cat lashed her tail angrily. She hated that she had been forced to go outside for help, to trade good fresh-kill for a different cat to do the task that she so relished handling personally.

But now there were LightClan warriors about Berryheart, by all the rumors, and Weasel had little desire to do battle with one of those troublesome cats.

She glanced at the sky, at the moon’s position, and flicked an ear grimly. The task should be done by now. The venomous centipedes had been delivered, likely, and one scratch should be more than enough.

Weasel stood up straight, sensing something, some sudden feeling of unease.

She heard a cry, of surprise or of fear, and she glanced about, and then her eyes went wide indeed. She watched in blank amazement as Slink, her partner in this, raced along the ledges above the many Twoleg-dens with a light brown tom, with a blue stone attached to his right foreleg, close behind! Weasel’s fear lessened and she purred slightly in amusement, though, as she watched the rogue tom go on the defensive. He smacked loose debris back at his pursuer repeatedly, aiming at the other’s face and paws.

Weasel’s eyes widened as she watched the spectacle. She was impressed at they way the LightClan warrior did not allow himself to lose his balance, dodging each piece of debris as it flew past him. Oh, he was good!

This was truly entertaining to the confident she-cat, but enough was enough.

Weasel climbed onto another ledge, this one with many large, loose slates. Unseen by the two toms, she waited patiently until they got close. Casually, she shoved the debris off the ledge and onto the rogue and the LightClan cat.

The rogue disappeared immediately, likely crushed instantly by the slates.

The LightClan cat was pushed off and fell from sight.

Weasel sighed and flicked her tail, telling herself that the cost of her helper’s life was worth the show. And hopefully the victory. If the ForestClan mediator lay dead in her nest, then that cost would be a minor thing indeed, for the promised payment exceeded anything Weasel had ever hoped to collect.

The assassin turned and started away along the ledges.

Sunleap screeched as he tumbled … five fox-lengths … ten. There was nothing in his training to save him this time. He looked all about frantically, but there was nothing – no pawholds, no ledge, no soft place to land.

Nothing. Just another tree-length to the ground!

He tried to find his sense of calm, tried to fall into the Force and accept this unwelcomed end.

And then something caught him in midair and he saw the face of his unruly apprentice, straining with the effort of using the Force to hold him, and never in his life had Sunleap been happier to see anything.

“Most cats tend to keep their paws on firm ground,” Skypaw informed him as he pulled Sunleap toward his ledge.

Sunleap scrabbled to gain a grip on the stone to pull himself up. He finally settled beside Skypaw and the pair started off again.

“I almost lost you there,” the apprentice remarked.

“No kidding. What took you so long?”

Skypaw calmly glanced about as they ran. “Oh, you know, mentor,” he mewed half-jokingly. “I couldn’t find a route I really liked. One that led me straight past your pursuit, of course, and was easy to maneuver so I could reach you more quickly. And then, you know, it had to lead slightly below you –”

“There!” Sunleap yowled, eyes locking on a pale brown cat on a higher ledge, recognizing the cat as the one who had knocked him down. The cat ran faster, and the pair turned quickly to give chase.

Almost immediately, loose debris started flying back at the LightClan cats.

“If you’d spend as much time working on your battle skills as you do on your wit, you would rival Lightstar!” Sunleap mewed, and he dodged, sliding a bit on the slates and stones as debris flew past his head.

“I thought Violetlight was the better warrior.”

“Only in your mind, my very young apprentice,” Sunleap retorted. He gave a little cry and tensed reflexively as Skypaw leapt nimbly from one ledge to the next, avoiding each piece of debris with ease despite being too close to the edge for the warrior’s comfort.

“Careful! You know I don’t like it when you do that!”

“Sorry, I forgot you don’t like climbing, mentor!” Skypaw meowed, his voice rising at the end as he darted down to a lower ledge suddenly to avoid a larger stone thrown by the stubborn assassin.

“I don’t mind climbing,” Sunleap insisted. “But what you’re doing is suicide!” His voice nearly caught in his throat, along with his stomach, as Skypaw flung himself toward a distant ledge to the right, then dropped out of sight before rushing back up to Sunleap’s level again – only to see another line of debris coming at them.

The assassin dove to the side suddenly, and both LightClan cats were quick to follow, only to start sliding down the sloped ledge. Sunleap tasted bile again, but somehow, Skypaw got between the older tom and the approaching edge, digging his claws and bringing them both to a quick stop. 

Again they chased the assassin up onto the higher ledges and slopes above the dens. Up ahead, the assassin cut fast to the left, rushing along another set of ledges, and Skypaw responded, going right and up.

“Where are you going?” a perplexed Sunleap asked, stopping quickly. “He went down there, the other way.”

His apprentice half-turned. “This is a shortcut. I think.”

“What do you mean, ‘you think’?” Sunleap demanded as he scrambled to catch up. “What kind of shortcut? He went completely the other way! We’ll lose him!”

“Mentor, if we keep this chase going, that cat’s going to eventually lose his balance,” Skypaw tried to explain. “Personally, I’d very much like to find out who he is, and who he’s working for.”

“Oh,” Sunleap replied, ears back in annoyance. “So that’s why we’re going in the wrong direction.”

The pair hastened up and around, finally settling on a ledge about two tree-lengths above the ground.

“Well, you lost him,” Sunleap meowed, lashing his tail.

“I’m deeply sorry, mentor,” Skypaw replied. He hardly seemed convincing, as if he was just uttering what was needed to keep Sunleap from scolding him further. The LightClan warrior looked at him hard, ready to call him on it, when he noticed that Skypaw, seemingly deep in concentration, was counting softly.

“If you’ll excuse me,” the apprentice meowed. He rose and, to Sunleap’s complete shock, leapt down from the ledge.

Sunleap lurched over to the edge and stared down, watching Skypaw drop – about three fox-lengths, before almost landing right on top of a familiar pale brown cat.

“I hate it when he does that,” Sunleap muttered incredulously, flicking his tail.

Weasel ran low to the ledge. She didn’t know whether Slink had completed the assignment, but she was feeling pretty good right now, having outwitted a pair of LightClan cats.

Suddenly she was knocked almost entirely off balance. At first she thought she had been struck by a bit of falling stone, but then, turning her head slightly, she came to know the truth of the strike, and to know that it – that he – had somehow landed right behind her.

Weasel was quick to lengthen her stride, rushing ahead. Skypaw was quick to follow and, to Weasel’s dismay, even began catching up.

With a hiss, Weasel lunged for a different ledge, and then another, hoping to shake Skypaw. But the stubborn young apprentice kept up easily, despite all of Weasel’s attempts to shake him. Desperate, she turned suddenly and swiped at him. He dodged and lunged for her, knocking both off the ledge and losing his Force-Crystal in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to please leave me a comment! I really rely on them


	10. Captured Killer and More Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasps in shock* This post is ON TIME???

Sunleap had finally caught sight of the assassin, with Skypaw close behind, when they tumbled off the ledge and the Force-Crystal was wrenched from his apprentice’s foreleg. Sunleap sighed and rushed down the ledges, angling for an interception. He barely caught it before it hit the ground. The warrior shook out his pelt, then went looking for the two combatants.

Skypaw and Weasel plunged downward, twisting desperately in the air as they fell. Skypaw drew on the Force to slow his fall, though he did stagger slightly as he touched the ground. The she-cat wasn’t so lucky and struck the ground hard. Pain erupted in her back leg as she lurched to her paws and started running. The LightClan apprentice spotted her and started to follow.

The splash as he stepped in one dirty puddle woke Skypaw to the harsh realities around him. This was the outer part of the Gathering Place, an area home to local loners and occasional passing rogues. He slowed – the assassin was out of sight anyway – and looked about curiously, noting the many cats that lived in this area.

He shook it all away quickly, though, reminding himself of the real reason he was here, and of Berryheart and her need for security. Prompted by images of the beautiful mediator of ForestClan, the young tom raced along the broken and damp stones, catching sight of the assassin moving through a crowd of cats. Skypaw charged right in behind, struggling to get through without just shoving every cat aside. 

He spotted the assassin a heartbeat before making it to the other side, right before the pale brown killer disappeared through an opening.

Skypaw got out, finally, and glanced in to see many crowds of cats inside. Undaunted, he started again for the entrance, and then stopped as he heard Sunleap calling.

The familiar sight of his mentor hurried over from the other side of the den.

“Skypaw!” Sunleap padded toward the younger tom, holding the fallen Force-Crystal in his jaws.

“She went into that den, mentor!”

Sunleap placed the Force-Crystal gently down, not even noticing the apprentice’s comment regarding their quarry. “Patience,” he meowed. “Use the Force, Skypaw. Think.”

“Sorry, mentor.”

“He went in there to hide, not to run,” Sunleap reasoned.

“Yes, mentor.”

Sunleap nudged the blue Force-Crystal toward his apprentice. “Next time try not to lose this.”

“Sorry, mentor.”

Sunleap rested a paw on the Force-Crystal as Skypaw reached for it, and held the young tom’s gaze with his own stern look. “A LightClan warrior’s Force-Crystal is his most prized possession.”

“Yes, mentor.” Again, Skypaw reached for it, and again Sunleap pulled it back, never letting Skypaw go from his scrutinizing stare.

“He must keep it with him at all times.”

“I know, mentor,” Skypaw replied, a bit of exasperation creeping into his tone. “I _have_ heard this lesson before.”

Sunleap nudged the Force-Crystal forward again, finally relinquishing that awful stare, and Skypaw slipped it back into place on his right foreleg.

“But you haven’t learned anything, Skypaw,” the LightClan warrior meowed, turning away.

“I _do_ try, mentor.”

There was sincerity in his tone, Sunleap clearly recognized, and a bit of weary regret, perhaps, and that reminded Sunleap of the difficult circumstances under which Skypaw had joined LightClan. He had been far too old, over six moons of age when they found him, and Moonlight had taken him in without permission, without the blessing of the Council. Lightstar had seen potential danger in the young kit. No cat they had ever encountered had been stronger with the Force, in terms of sheer potential. But LightClan normally required training from the earliest possible age. The Force was far too powerful.

After Moonlight’s death at the claws of a DarkClan warrior, the cats of the Council had rethought their decision about the kit, and had allowed his training to go forward, with Sunleap fulfilling his promise to Moonlight that he would take the talented young tom as his apprentice. The Council had been hesitant, though, and obviously not happy about it. Lightstar had seemed almost resigned, as if this path was one they could not deny, rather than one they would willingly and eagerly walk. For there were those who thought Skypaw may be the chosen one, the one who would bring balance to the Force.

Sunleap wasn’t sure what that meant, and he was more than a little fearful. He looked back at Skypaw who was standing with his head lowered, properly subdued after the scolding, and he took comfort in that image, in this incredibly likeable, somewhat stubborn, and obviously brash young tom.

He stifled a purr only because it would not do for Skypaw to understand himself forgiven so easily for his rash actions and the loss of his Force-Crystal. Sunleap had to turn back around quickly. After all, hadn’t he been the one who had leapt out an opening tree-lengths above the ground to a broken ledge?

The LightClan warrior led the way into the den. Loners and rogues mingled about in the dim space, sharing tongues and eating fresh-kill. Many had scars across their pelts and faces, and in looking around, both LightClan cats understood that every cat here was a potential threat.

“Why do I think that you’re going to be the death of me?” Sunleap commented above the clamor.

“Don’t say that, mentor,” Skypaw replied seriously, and the intensity of his tone surprised Sunleap. “You’re the closest I have to a father. I love you, and I don’t _want_ to cause you pain.”

“Then why don’t you listen to me?”

“I’ll try to do better,” Skypaw meowed eagerly. “I promise.”

Sunleap dipped his head and glanced all around. “Do you see him?”

“No. And he’s actually a she.”

“Then be extra careful,” Sunleap mewed with an ear-flick. He indicated the crowd in front of them with a paw. “Go and find her.” He started the opposite way.

“Where are you going, mentor?”

“To get a drink,” came the short response.

Skypaw blinked in surprise to see his mentor head for a less-crowded area with water flowing in from the outside. He almost started after, to inquire further, but he recalled the scolding he had just received and his promise to do better, to obey his mentor. He turned and started away, milling through the crowd, trying to avoid the notice of the many staring eyes, most with obvious suspicion, some even openly hostile.

Over by the small pool, Sunleap watched him for a bit, out of the corner of his eye. He settled down for a drink, pretending to ignore the other cats around him. The one closest to him, a dark brown and white loner, glanced over at him briefly, but a subtle flick of the warrior’s tail and an even more subtle nudge with the Force encouraged the tom to depart quietly.

A short distance away, padding among the crowd, Skypaw continued his scan. Something didn’t seem quite right to him – but of course, how could he expect it to be in such a place? Still, some sensation nagged at him, some mounting evil that seemed more than what would be expected even in here.

He didn’t actually see the hunting crouch, didn’t see the cat slowly and carefully approaching the apparently unsuspecting Sunleap.

But he felt …

Skypaw spun to see his mentor coming around, Force-Crystal glowing, in a beautiful and graceful turn with perfect balance. It seemed almost as if in slow motion to Skypaw, though of course Sunleap was moving with deadly speed and precision, as his right foreclaws, blazing blue like his Force-Crystal, lashed out at his foe. The would-be assassin screeched in agony as he struck leaving burning slices shallowly across her chest and deep along her foreleg, rendering it limp and useless.

The cats in the den moved all at once, with Skypaw rushing to Sunleap’s side, loners and rogues leaping up all around them, bristling with nervous energy.

“Easy!” Skypaw meowed loudly, raising a paw, imbuing his voice with the strength of the Force. “LightClan business. Go back to as you were.”

Gradually, very gradually, the den resumed its previous atmosphere, with conversations beginning again. Seeming hardly concerned, Sunleap indicated for Skypaw to help him, and together they pulled the assassin out of the den.

They lowered her gently to the ground, and she stirred awake as soon as Sunleap attempted to tend to her wounds. She growled and winced in agony, all the while glaring up hatefully at the two LightClan cats.

“Do you know who it was you were trying to kill?” Sunleap asked her.

“The mediator of ForestClan,” Weasel meowed matter-of-factly, as if it hardly mattered.

“Who told you to?”

Her answer was a glare. “It was just an assignment.”

Skypaw narrowed his eyes threateningly. “Tell us!”

The tough rogue didn’t even flinch. “She’s going to die soon anyway,” she hissed. “It won’t end with me. For the prize they’re offering, there’ll be others lining up to take this assignment. And the next one won’t make the same mistake I did.”

Tough as she was, she ended with a pained moan.

“This wound’s going to need more treatment than I can give it here,” an obviously concerned Sunleap explained to Skypaw, but the younger tom knew better. She didn’t have that time left to her. He leaned forward.

“Who gave you this assignment?” he asked again, and then he continued, throwing the full weight of the Force into his demand, a strength that surprised Sunleap, that came from something more than prudence or dedication to his current duty. “Tell us. Quickly!”

The rogue, unable to hide the heaviness of her breath, continued to glare at him through dimming eyes, but started to answer regardless. “It was just … another rogue. He … his name … is … S…”

Her voice left her suddenly with one last gasp and her body went limp, eyes no longer seeing anything.

A sound from above caused Skypaw and Sunleap to tear their eyes away to look up. They caught a brief glimpse of grey fur on one of the high ledges above a nearby den before it vanished into the shadows.

Sunleap turned back to the dead she-cat and sighed. Then he turned to look wearily at his apprentice. Skypaw lowered his tail and head.

So they had foiled this attempt and one assassin was dead. But it was clear to Skypaw that Berryheart remained in grave danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to leave a comment or question down below!


	11. Responsibility and Riddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand now the Wednesday post is late.... (Just can't catch a break, can I?)

Skypaw stood quietly in the Council chamber, encircled by the council cats, deputy, and leader of LightClan. Beside him stood Sunleap, his mentor. Sunleap, like the majority of LightClan cats, was a warrior, but those who sat here had ascended to the higher rank of sage first. The apprentice had never been comfortable in this esteemed group. He knew that more than half of the cats sitting here had expressed grave doubts about allowing him into the Clan at the advanced age of seven moons. He knew that even after Lightstar had swayed the others and allowed him to begin training under Sunleap, a few continued to hold those doubts.

“Track down this rogue, you must, Sunleap,” Lightstar meowed as the others studied the remains of the strange creatures that had nearly killed the ForestClan mediator. 

“Most importantly, find out who he’s working for,” Violetlight added.

“What about Berryheart?” Sunleap asked. “She will still need protecting.”

Skypaw, anticipating what might be coming, straightened as Lightstar turned his gaze his way.

“Handle that, your apprentice will.”

Skypaw felt his heart soar at Lightstar’s declaration, both because of the confidence obviously being shown in him, and also because this was one assignment he knew that he would truly enjoy.

“Skypaw, escort Berryheart back to her Clan’s territory in Green Trees,” Violetlight instructed. “She’ll be safer there. And don’t use the common paths. Travel along less used ones.”

Skypaw dipped his head as the assignment was explained, but he knew immediately that there would be a few obstacles to such a course. “If I may say so,” he mewed respectfully, “as the leader of the opposition to this army, it will be very difficult to get Berryheart to leave. I know how deeply she cares about this matter, and she is more concerned with winning this Casting of Stones than with her own life.”

“Until caught this killer is, our judgement she must respect,” Lightstar replied.

Violetlight added, “Go to Foxstar and ask him to speak with her.” He flicked his tail to indicate that they were done with these issues. The warrior and his apprentice had their assignments, and Lightstar dismissed them.

“Berryheart won’t be happy about having to leave,” Skypaw mewed as he and Sunleap padded through the high tunnel from the chamber.

“You made her feelings quite clear,” Sunleap replied. “That is why Violetlight bade you to have Foxstar intervene.” The two moved further down the tunnel, Skypaw struggling to calm his thoughts.

“The Council understands, Skypaw,” Sunleap remarked.

“Yes, mentor.”

“You must trust in them, Skypaw.”

“Yes, mentor.” Skypaw’s reply was automatic. He was already setting this issue aside in his thoughts. He knew how unhappy Berryheart would be about leaving, but that wasn’t the only thing on his mind. The other, equally important thing, was that he would be with her, guarding her. With Sunleap off chasing the mysterious rogue, Berryheart would be his sole responsibility, and that was no small thing to Skypaw.

No small thing at all.

Skypaw was not nervous in Foxstar’s den. Certainly he understood the tom’s power, and respected the rank itself, but the young apprentice felt very comfortable here, felt as if he was with a friend. He hadn’t spent much time with Foxstar, but on those few occasions when he had spoken with the Tribe of Gathering leader privately, he had always felt as if the tom was taking an honest interest in him. In some ways, Skypaw felt as if Foxstar was an additional mentor – not as directly as Sunleap, of course, but offering solid and important advice.

More than that, though, Skypaw always felt as if he was welcome here.

“I will speak to her,” Foxstar agreed, upon hearing Skypaw’s request that he speak with Berryheart about leaving the Gathering Place for the relative safety of Green Trees. “Berryheart will not refuse an order from a higher-ranking cat. I know her well enough to assure you of that.”

“Thank you, Foxstar.”

“And so, young Skypaw, they have finally given you a solo assignment,” the older tom purred warmly, the way a father might to a son. “Your patience has paid off.”

“I wasn’t sure how much longer my patience would have held,” Skypaw replied, ducking his head a bit. “I have yours and Sunleap’s guidance and assurances to thank.”

Foxstar dipped his head and purred. “You don’t need guidance, Skypaw,” he mewed. “In time you will learn to trust your feelings. Then you will be invincible. I have said it many times, you are the most gifted LightClan cat I have ever met.”

“Thank you, Foxstar,” Skypaw replied coolly, though in truth, he had to bite back every counter that ran through his mind, knowing that Foxstar wouldn’t hear such. After all, despite Foxstar’s high accomplishments, he was neither a LightClan cat nor the oldest cat alive. And while Skypaw’s abilities were, admittedly, unlike what his Clanmates had ever seen, he still had much more to learn.

“I see you becoming the greatest of all of LightClan, Skypaw,” Foxstar went on. “Even more powerful than Lightstar.”

Skypaw only hoped to be equal to Lightstar. He could barely believe Foxstar’s continued compliments, and had no idea of how he might answer them, so he just stood in silence, while Foxstar stood by an opening in the wall and looked out over the endless stream of cats below.

After a few heartbeats, Skypaw worked up the courage to join him in gazing outside.

“I am concerned for my apprentice,” Sunleap mewed to Lightstar and Violetlight as the three padded along the tall tunnels of the LightClan camp. “He is not ready to be given this solo assignment.”

“Confident in its decision, the Council is,” Lightstar meowed.

“He has exceptional skills,” Violetlight agreed.

“But he still has much to learn, Violetlight,” Sunleap explained. “His skills have made him … well, arrogant.”

“Yes, yes,” Lightstar agreed. “It’s a flaw more and more common in our Clanmates. Too sure of themselves, they are. Even the older, more experienced cats.”

Sunleap considered the comment with an assenting dip of his head. They certainly rang true, and the current conditions within LightClan in this time of mounting tension were a bit unsettling, with many off on their own far from camp. And had not arrogance played a major role in Birdclaw’s decision to depart from LightClan, and the Tribe of Gathering?

“Remember, Sunleap,” Violetlight remarked, “if the prophecy is true, your apprentice is the only one who can bring the Force into balance.”

How could Sunleap ever forget that little fact? Moonlight had been the first to see it, the first to predict that Skypaw would be the one to fulfill the prophecy. What Moonlight, or any other cat for that matter, had failed to explain, was exactly what bringing balance to the Force might mean.

“If he follows the right path,” the warrior remarked to his Clan’s deputy and leader, and neither of them corrected him.

“Attend to your own duties, you must,” Lightstar reminded, drawing Sunleap from his distracting contemplation as surely as if he was reading the other’s mind. “When solved is this mystery of the assassin, other riddles might be answered.”

“Yes, Lightstar,” Sunleap replied, and he turned his mind to the dead creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to kudo and comment! I really want to know your thoughts on the changes I've made to some of the characters.


	12. Wants and Departures

Skypaw and Frog stood close to the opening between Berryheart’s nesting chamber and the central chamber where Skypaw and Sunleap had kept watch the night before. Looking into the chamber, the pair could easily see and hear every thing that went on in the nesting chamber.

Berryheart was leaving final instructions for Mousemist and Jayeye, and from her sharp tone, both Skypaw and Frog knew that they would do well to keep their distance from the upset and angry young mediator. Foxstar had intervened as requested to bid Berryheart to return to Green Trees. She was complying, but that did not mean that she was happy about it.

With a profound sigh, Berryheart watched Mousemist and Jayeye hurry out of the chamber. She shook out her fur and moved before the two observers.

“I’m taking an extended leave of absence,” she meowed to Frog, her voice low and somber. “It will be your responsibility to take my place in the Great Gathering.”

Frog’s jaw stretched open in surprise. Then he shook himself and stood straighter than he usually did. “Me honored to be taking on this task,” he replied, and Skypaw remembered that he wasn’t the only cat who had changed in the past moons.

“Frog,” Berryheart mewed, “I know I can count on you.”

“Of course, Berryheart.” With a respectful dip of his head, the lanky tom turned and hurried away. Skypaw’s eyes followed the retreating Tribe cat, but any relief or sense of calm he felt from that last exchange was washed away a heartbeat later, when Berryheart addressed him in a tone that reminded him that she was not in the best of moods.

“I do not like this idea of hiding,” she meowed emphatically.

“Don’t worry. Now that the Council has ordered an investigation, it won’t take Sunleap long to find out who was behind the attack,” He told her, meaning to sound reassuring.

“And while your mentor investigates, I have to hide away.”

“That was considered most prudent, yes.”

Berryheart lashed her tail in frustration. “I haven’t worked for four moons to defeat the Army Creation Deal not to be here when its fate is decided!”

Skypaw held his tongue, not sure how to respond with making her even more angry. After stalking back and forth for several heartbeats, she stopped and sighed. When she looked back over at him she had to stifle a purr at the sight of him using the Force to pick up a round pebble, letting it hover above his head as he examined it.

“I know the feeling,” he mewed at last. “To be honest, I think if Sunleap had his way I’d be back at camp for all of my training. Given that he criticizes my mistakes more than he praises what I can do, I think he believes I’m incapable of doing anything right.”

“Mentors have a way of seeing more of our faults than we would like,” Berryheart agreed. “It’s the only way we grow.”

With a thought, Skypaw used the Force to lift the pebble higher into the air, manipulating it all about. “Don’t get me wrong,” he remarked quickly. “Sunleap is a _great_ mentor, well-respected by all of our Clanmates. I _am_ truly thankful to be his apprentice. Only …” He paused for a heartbeat, considering how to voice his thoughts. “Only, I think he’s afraid of something. Something he won’t tell me about. I just wish I knew what it was!”

Berryheart tilted her head, eyes filled with curiosity, and Skypaw could well understand her puzzlement., for he, too, was surprised at how openly he was conversing about Sunleap. He thought that he should stop right there, and silently berated himself.

But then Berryheart mewed, with all sympathy, “That must be frustrating.”

He sighed, and caved to the warmth. “I know he has a right to his silence, but I’m his apprentice. I want to help him! And I can’t help him if I don’t know what it is he needs!”

Skypaw allowed the pebble to drop gently to the ground. His ears and tail drooped and his head lowered. He seemed so pitiable then, not pitiful, but just like a lost little soul. Berryheart couldn’t resist. She walked over to him and brushed her tail against his shoulder. “Skypaw.”

For the first time since they had been reunited, Berryheart truly looked into the blue eyes of the young LightClan tom, locked stares with him so that they could see beneath the surface, so that they could view the other’s heart. It was a fleeting moment, made so by Berryheart’s common sense. She quickly altered the mood with a sincere but lighthearted request. “Don’t try to grow up too fast.”

“I am grown up,” Skypaw replied. “Apprentice rank or not.” He looked deeply into Berryheart’s warm brown eyes, this time more intensely.

Berryheart paused and looked him over, ears to tail, flicking her tail as she took in the sight of him in completely. “Yes,” she mewed sincerely. “I’m sorry, Skypaw. It’s impossible to deny you’ve … that you’ve grown up.”

There was something in her admission, Skypaw sensed, some suggestion, some recognition from the she-cat that he was indeed a grown tom now, and perhaps a handsome one at that. 

Embarrassed suddenly, they both dropped their gazes and moved away from each other. Aware of Mousemist’s arrival with the needed traveling herbs, Berryheart chanced another glance at Skypaw to see him take up his position by the chamber’s entrance.

Just the guard again.

But he wasn’t, Berryheart knew, no matter how much she wished it were true.

In a forest filled with huge, wet plants and hot damp air, a father and his son crouched on a large tree-root, watching carefully in one of the calmer streams that flowed from the whiter waters of the large river. The rain had let up, a rare occasion in this damp place, allowing for the pair to leave their den unhindered, at least by weather, and they stared hard, searching for the shadows that indicated fish.

They were beneath a particularly large tree, with branches that stretched nearly over the whole stream, many fox-lengths from their den outside of the Tribe of White Waters camp. The Tribe of White Waters was an old one that had found a way to survive in this strange forest even when other cats had failed to do so. The father, Slate, wondered at the Tribe cats, tall and graceful, survived for as long as they had in this place. How could they relax in such a damp and dangerous forest?

Still, even a forest filled with cat-eaters of all kinds had its better moments. It was all relative, Slate supposed. Thus, when he saw that it was not raining very hard, he had taken his kit out for a hunt.

Slate nudged his son with his shoulder and pointed his tail at an approaching shadow, and the younger tom, his eyes glittering with all the exuberance of a five-moon-old kit, shifted his weight and fixed his gaze. He lifted a paw ever so slightly, sharp claws slowly extending, and didn’t so much as glance at his father. No, this kill was a test of his own skill.

He exhaled deeply, as his father had taught him, using the technique to go perfectly steady, and then, as the prey got close, he snapped his paw forward. One swift motion, nearly a blur, piercing the water and slapping the fish onto the shore.

With a yowl of joy, the kit pounced on the wriggling fish as it flopped about on the shore. One quick bite ended the movement for good.

“Well done,” Slate congratulated. “But if you had hit it a bit lower, your claws would have slashed just below the gill and rendered it dead on impact.”

The kit flicked an ear, unperturbed that his father, his mentor, could always find fault, even in success. The kit knew that his beloved father did so only because it forced him to strive for perfection. And in a dangerous world, perfection allowed for survival.

The kit loved his father even more for caring enough to criticize.

Slate went tense suddenly, sensing a movement nearby, the tread of a paw, perhaps, or just a smell, something to tell the finely attuned rogue that he and his kit were not alone. There were many enemies to be found in this forest. Despite that most avoided the Tribe’s territory, and so Slate wasn’t surprised when he saw that the newcomer was one of the Tribe cats, Tall Wing, the one he conversed with most.

“Greetings, Slate,” the tall, lithe she-cat mewed, lifted her long tail in a gesture of peace and friendship.

Slate dipped his head but didn’t reply. Why had Tall Wing come out here – the Tribe of White Waters cats were hardly ever more than a fox-length away from their camp – and why would she interrupt Slate when he was with his son?

“Your presence has been scarce of late,” Tall Wing remarked.

“Better things to do.”

“With your kit?”

In response, Slate looked over at his son, who was preparing for another fishing attempt. Or at least, he was appearing to, Slate recognized, and the insight brought out a knowing purr of satisfaction from the older tom. He had taught his son well the art of deception and deflection, of appearing to do one thing while, in reality, doing something quite different. Like listening in on the conversation, measuring Tall Wing’s every move and comment.

“The sixth moon approaches,” the silver she-cat explained.

Slate turned back to her with his ears tilted back. “ _You_ think I don’t remember when Blue was born?”

If Tall Wing was fazed at all by the sharp retort, the seemingly-delicate Tribe cat didn’t show it. “We are ready to begin again.”

Slate looked back at Blue, one of his _many_ kits, but the only one who was his perfect heir, without a shard-thing embedded in his shoulder to make him more obedient. And the only one Slate felt any attachment to. There were other kits far older than Blue, all trained as perfect warriors, but Slate paid them no mind.

Slate had thought that idea of using shards from a Starstone to ensure loyalty and obedience a mistake – wasn’t free will as necessary to a good fighter as training? – but he hadn’t complained openly to the Tribe of White Waters about it. He had been asked to do a task, to serve as the sire, and questioning the process wasn’t part of his duty.

Tall Wing tilted her head a bit to the side, eyes blinking slowly.

Slate stifled a purr at her unhidden curiosity. The Tribe of White Waters was a strange one, the cats behaving more as if they were exactly the same with few differences even in thought. Perhaps their singular concept, their commonness within their own Tribe, was a part of their kit-rearing process, which resulted in no cat considering even a single parent or kit as their own individually. As a group, they were practically of one mind and one heart. Tall Wing, despite actually being Blue’s mother, seemed genuinely perplexed, and so she was, to see a cat claim one kit but not any other.

Of course, hadn’t the Tribe just created an army for the Tribe of Gathering? There wouldn’t be battles without disagreement or loss, now, would there?

But that, too, held little interest for Slate. He was a solitary rogue – or he would have been if not for Blue. Slate didn’t give a mouse tail about the inner workings of Clans or Tribes, or battles, or this army of his kits. If every single one of them was slaughtered, then so be it.

He flicked his tail as he considered that. The exception was Blue, of course.

Other than that, though, this was just a task, well-compensated and easy enough. Honestly, he couldn’t have asked for more, but more important, only the Tribe of White Waters could have given him Blue – not just a son with his strengths, but one with the strengths of a near-forgotten Tribe of cats. Blue would give Slate the pleasure of seeing all that he might have become had he grown up with a loving and caring father, a mentor who cared enough to criticize, to force him to perfection. He was as good as it got concerning rogues, concerning hunters, but he had no doubt that Blue, born and trained for perfection, would far outshine him to become one of the greatest hunters ever known.

This, then, was Slate’s greatest reward, right here, being with his son, sharing quiet moments.

Quiet moments within the tumult that had been Slate’s entire life, surviving alone practically from the moment his eyes had opened. Each trial made him stronger, had made him more perfect, had honed the skills that he would now pass along to Blue. There was no other cat better to train his son. When Slate wanted you caught, you were caught. When Slate wanted you dead, you were dead.

No, not when Slate “wanted” those things. This was never personal. The hunting, the killing, it was all just a task, and among the most valuable of lessons Slate had learned early on was how to become dispassionate. Completely so. That was his greatest weapon.

He looked at Tall Wing, then turned to look fondly at his son. Slate could be dispassionate, except for those times when he could be alone with Blue. With Blue, there was pride and there was love, and Slate had to work constantly to keep both of those potential weaknesses at a minimum. While he loved his son dearly – _because_ he loved his son dearly – Slate had been teaching him those same attributes of dispassion, even callousness, from his earliest days.

“Whenever you are ready.” Tall Wing dipped her head and turned and padded gracefully away.

 _If you wait for that, you’ll be waiting forever,_ Slate thought, but he kept quiet, and again he turned to Blue. _Because now I have all that I wanted,_ the grey tom mused, watching Blue’s stance, his eyes darting about, searching for the next fish.

The higher area of the Gathering Place was fairly quiet compared to the rest. The entrances there were little more than holes in the walls just large enough for one or two cats to slip through. As such, they were used predominantly by loners and the occasional rogue rather than any Clan or Tribe cats. These travelers would usually only stop in for a clean place to sleep before moving on, though some did stay, milling about in the large area.

Blending into that throng, Skypaw and Berryheart padded along, fur covered in dust and Force-Crystal hidden by cobwebs and leaves. They kept pace side by side as they headed for one of the smaller holes. Jayeye, Mousemist, and Sunleap stood waiting for them at that hole.

“Be safe, Berryheart,” Jayeye mewed with genuine concern. It was clear that he was not thrilled with allowing Berryheart out of his sight and control. He did dip his head respectfully to Skypaw, an indication of confidence in the LightClan apprentice.

“Thank you, Jayeye,” Berryheart replied, her voice thick with gratitude. “Take good care of Mousemist and the others. The threat will be on you now.”

“He’ll be safe with me!” Mousemist put in quickly.

Berryheart purred weakly, appreciating the small attempt at levity. Then she pressed her nose into the other she-cat’s shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut as Mousemist shakily did the same to her.

“You’ll be fine,” Berryheart mewed quietly into her friend’s ear.

“It’s not me, Berryheart. I worry about you. What if they realize you’ve left?”

Berryheart stepped back and managed a purr as she looked over to Skypaw. “Then my LightClan protector will have to prove how good he is.”

Mousemist gave a nervous purr.

Off to the side, Skypaw pushed back his own nervousness, deciding consciously to hold himself in a manner that exuded confidence and control. But even so, he was gratified to hear Berryheart’s compliments coming his way.

Sunleap caught his full attention, leading the young apprentice a bit further away.

“You stay at Green Trees,” Sunleap meowed. “Don’t attract attention. Do absolutely nothing without checking in with me or the Council.”

“Yes, mentor,” Skypaw answered obediently, but inside, his nervousness came back. Do nothing, absolutely nothing, without checking in, without asking for permission? What if there was no time for that? What was he meant to do then?

“I will get to the bottom of this plot quickly,” he heard Sunleap assure Berryheart. “You’ll be back here in no time.”

“I will be most grateful for your speed, Sunleap.”

Skypaw forced himself to breathe deeply, reassuring himself that all would be fine. “Time to go,” he mewed, striding forward.

“I know,” Berryheart answered him, but she didn’t seem pleased.

Skypaw reminded himself not to take it personally. Berryheart felt that her duty was here. She wasn’t thrilled with running away – and she wasn’t thrilled with having another she-cat stepping into the path of this madness in her stead, especially with images of dead Vinetail so fresh in her mind.

Berryheart and Mousemist exchanged another hesitant farewell. Skypaw turned and led the way toward the hole where Bluestripe waited on the other side

“May the Force be with you,” Sunleap meowed.

“May the Force be with you, mentor.” Skypaw meant it fully. He wanted Sunleap to find out who was behind the assassination attempts, to make things safer for Berryheart once again. But he also had no wish for this farewell with Sunleap to be the last. In the meanwhile, his duty put him right beside the she-cat he loved most, and he would make the most of it.

“Suddenly I’m afraid,” Berryheart mewed to him after they passed through the hole, heading for the trees beyond. Behind the pair, Bluestripe fell in line, padding along cheerfully.

“This is my first assignment on my own. I am, too.” Skypaw turned about, taking Berryheart’s gaze with his own, and purred loudly. “But don’t worry. We’ve got Bluestripe with us!”

“And don’t you forget it!” the ForestClan tom retorted as he moved alongside them.

Again, the levity was much needed.

Back within the Gathering Place, the three left behind watched through the hole as Skypaw, Berryheart, and Bluestripe disappeared into the trees.

“I hope he doesn’t try anything mouse-brained,” Sunleap mewed. The mere fact that he would be so open about his apprentice showed Jayeye how much the LightClan warrior had come to trust him.

“I’d be more concerned about _her_ doing something than him,” Jayeye replied. He shook out his fur, his voice serious. “She’s not one to follow orders blindly.”

“Like-minded traveling companions,” Mousemist observed.

Sunleap and Jayeye turned to regard her, and Jayeye lowered his head helplessly. Sunleap didn’t disagree with the she-cat’s assessment, however innocently she meant it. Berryheart was a stubborn one indeed, one of strong and independent thinking and more than willing to trust her own judgement above that of others, whatever their rank and experience.

But of the trio who had just departed, she wasn’t the most headstrong.

It was not a comforting thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave kudos and a comment! Comments help improve the storytelling


	13. Seeking Clues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's on time, you guys!!!

The LightClan camp was a place of reflection and of hard training, and it was also a place of information. LightClan was traditionally known for keeping the peace, and also knowledge. Within the cavernous Twoleg-den, in a small chamber to one side of the main chamber, was where the medicine cat resided, knowledgeable with remedies and histories of all known Clans and Tribes and their respective territories.

Sunleap was thinking of Skypaw and Berryheart as he made his way through the den, dragging a part of one of the mysterious creatures that had attacked the she-cat. He wondered, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, about the wisdom of sending Skypaw off with the ForestClan mediator. The eagerness with which the apprentice had embraced his new duty alarmed Sunleap, but he had allowed the task to go forth anyway, mostly because he knew that he’d be too busy following the leads he hoped he could garner here, uncovering the source of Berryheart’s troubles.

The medicine chamber was mostly empty save for two cats, the medicine cat apprentice, a young tom called Sappaw, and a young she-cat Sunleap recognized as Mantispaw, one of the older apprentices. The warrior sat quietly as he waited for Sappaw to finish. Once Mantispaw limped out with a fresh poultice applied to her shoulder, Sappaw approached him.

“You don’t look injured,” the grey tom mewed politely. “Did you come for another reason?”

“Yes,” Sunleap replied. “I was hoping that you or Glowlight could tell me what type of creature this is and where it came from.” He pushed the piece toward Sappaw. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Alright. One moment, please.” The apprentice looked it over thoroughly, eyes narrowed in concentration. Sunleap waited with baited breath.

Finally, Sappaw sat back. “I’m sorry, Sunleap, but I don’t recognize it at all.”

“Perhaps Glowlight might recognize it?” There was no hiding the frustration in Sunleap’s voice, though he did try. It wasn’t Sappaw’s fault, after all.

“Perhaps,” Sappaw agreed. “But she’s out herb-gathering right now. You could wait for her to return, but I don’t know exactly when she’ll return.”

Sunleap looked at the broken creature, looked back at Sappaw, and sighed. “Thank you for your assistance,” he mewed. As he moved to rise, a thought occurred to him. “You may not be able to recognize it, but I think I know someone who might.”

Sappaw wished him good luck as he hastened out, creature piece clamped tightly in his jaws. He left the den without running into any other cat, his thoughts turned inward, trying to find some focus. He needed answers, and quickly. He knew that instinctively, but he had a nagging feeling that it wasn’t necessarily about Berryheart’s safety. He sensed that something more might be at stake here, though what it was, he could only guess. Skypaw’s mindset? A greater plot against the Tribe of Gathering?

Or perhaps he was just being jumpy because the normally reliable medicine cat was absent and her apprentice hadn’t been able to help him at all. He needed answers, and conventional methods of attaining them wouldn’t suffice, apparently. And so Sunleap, normally so conventional and reserved, especially with his apprentice, would have to summon the unconventional attitude of his former mentor, Moonlight.

At least he _did_ know where to get his answers.

He hurried straight to an old, abandoned Twoleg-den on the outskirts of the Gathering Place that was mostly undamaged. Loners that were uncertain of entering the Gathering Place often stayed there, far from the place where Sunleap and Skypaw had caught the would-be assassin.

He purred quietly as he approached. He hadn’t seen Dex in a long time. _Far too long,_ he mused as he entered.

The inside was bright in the daylight, the light colored by the Twoleg-material that was wedged in the many openings along the wall. It was mostly quiet at that moment, the few cats within dozing in the colored light.

The LightClan warrior set the piece down, catching the attention of a silver tabby she-cat he noted as carrying kits.

“Can I help you?” the she-cat asked.

“I’m looking for Dex.”

Brown eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Sunleap just purred. “I just need to speak with him.”

“What do you want him for?”

“He’s not in trouble,” the LightClan tom assured her. “It’s personal.”

The she-cat stared at him for a few heartbeats, sizing him up, then, with a whisk of her tail, she waddled over to a high ledge. “Some cat to see you, Dex,” she meowed loudly. “A LightClan cat, by the looks of him.”

A large head appeared over the edge almost immediately. A tremendous purr, almost more fitting for a monster than a cat, came out of the tom’s throat as he set his eyes on the visitor. “Sunpaw!”

“Hey, Dex,” Sunleap replied with a purr of his own. “And it’s Sun _leap_ now.”

“Oho! You’ve got stories, haven’t you? Just make yourself comfortable, old friend! I’ll be right with you!”

Sunleap glanced around. The she-cat had padded away from the ledge, self-appointed task done. He settled himself and the creature-piece closer to the wall.

“You want some freshkill?” the she-cat asked, her demeanor much more accommodating.

“Thank you.”

She moved off toward the pile at the far side of the den as Dex dropped stiffly from the ledge. He was an impressive sort, huge and covered with long brown fur, dwarfing most of the cats who frequented the den he claimed as his. His ears were folded almost in half. On each of his forepaws was an extra toe, and though he had seen many seasons and did not move fluidly any longer, with too many old injuries slowing him, Dex was obviously not a tom any cat wanted to fight. Sunleap noted the many respectful glances that went his way as he moved toward him.

“Hey, old friend!”

“Hey, Dex. Long time. How’s the prey running?”

Dex dropped down opposite Sunleap with a huff. “Nice and plentiful. And a good thing, too, what with Jet expecting kits and all. What’s this about you having a new name?”

They spent quite a while catching up, interrupted only by the she-cat (subsequently introduced as Dex’s mate, Jet) approaching with a large pheasant for the old friends to share.

“So, my friend, what can I do for you?” Dex asked once Sunleap’s story was finished, and it was obvious to the LightClan tom that Dex genuinely wanted to help. Sunleap was hardly surprised. He didn’t always approve of Dex’s antics, of the partial isolation and the many fights, but he knew Dex to be among the most loyal of friends that any cat could ask for. Dex would shred an enemy into mousedust, but would give his own life for those he cared about. That was the way Dex was, and Sunleap greatly appreciated it.

“You can tell me what this is,” Sunleap answered. He pushed the creature-piece forward, watching Dex all the time, noting how the large tom quickly sat up, his eyes widening as he regarded the curious and distinctive creature.

“Well, fur and whiskers,” Dex mewed quietly, as if he could hardly draw breath. He leaned over it carefully, almost reverently. “I haven’t seen one of these since my traveling seasons in the farthest of hunting grounds.”

“Do you know where it came from?”

Dex settled back and looked at Sunleap. “This creature comes from Wet Trees. It’s called a centipede.”

“Centipede?” Sunleap echoed. “I wonder how it got here.”

Dex nudged it carefully with a paw. “It’s the numberless skinny legs on each side that give it away,” he explained. “It doesn’t normally travel, especially not long distances. Some more information for your LightClan medicine cats.”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it,” Sunleap answered with a purr.

The LightClan warrior quieted quickly, though, remembering the importance of his task. “Wet Trees … doesn’t sound familiar. Is it within the territories of the Tribe of Gathering?”

“No, it’s very far from the borders of the Tribe’s influence. I’d say about one moon of travel from here. Even so, it should be easy enough to find.”

“Are there any cats living there?”

“Just one group. Call themselves the Tribe of White Waters. They’re … _unusual_.”

Sunleap leaned back, ears slightly back in contemplation. “Unusual?” he asked. “Are they friendly?”

“It depends.”

“On what?” The LightClan tom focused on his friend as he asked, and the sly gleam in Dex’s eyes gave him his answer before it was uttered aloud.

“On how good your manners are and how much you’re willing to trade.”

Sunleap looked back down at the centipede, hardly surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on a road trip (first one since.... well, need I say more?), so the next chapter won't be up until the 21st. In the meanwhile, don't forget to leave kudos and comments!


	14. Discussions and Returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back!

Berryheart, current mediator and former leader of ForestClan, was lounging beneath a willow’s roots, certainly unused to traveling in this manner. There was only three of them, including herself. There was no constant activity, no milling about, and she could see, hear, and smell much more of her surroundings than usual. What exactly she was seeing, hearing, and smelling, Berryheart didn’t know. Nor did she care. In some ways, Berryheart was truly enjoying this journey. She knew she should be back at the Gathering Place, fighting the efforts to create an army for the Tribe of Gathering, but somehow, she felt relaxed here, felt free.

Free of responsibility. Free to just be Berryheart for a while. Moments such as these were rare for her, and had been since she was an apprentice. All of her life since she was six moons old, it seemed, had been spent in her Clan’s service; all of her focus had always been for the greater good, with hardly any time ever being given just to Berryheart, to her needs and desires.

The she-cat didn’t regret that reality of her life. She was proud of her accomplishments, but more than that, even, she felt a profound sense of warmth, of kinship, of belonging to something greater than herself.

Still, these moments when the responsibility was lifted were undeniably enjoyable.

She looked over at Skypaw, who was sleeping somewhat restlessly. She could see him now, not as a LightClan apprentice and her protector, but just as a young tom. A handsome young tom, and one whose actions repeatedly professed his love for her. A dangerous young tom, to be sure, a LightClan cat who was thinking about things he should not. A cat who was inevitably following the call of his heart above that of pragmatism and propriety. And all for her. Berryheart couldn’t deny the attractiveness of that. She and Skypaw were on similar paths of service for the Tribe of Gathering, she as ForestClan’s mediator and he as a LightClan apprentice, but he was showing rebellion against the present path, or at least, against the mentor who was leading him along the present path, as Berryheart never had.

But hadn’t she wanted to? Hadn’t Berryheart of ForestClan wanted to just be Berryheart? Once in a while, at least?

She purred loudly and pointedly turned away from Skypaw, scanning the shaded area for signs of her other companion. She finally spotted Bluestripe a few fox-lengths away, where his blue and white tabby pelt stuck out in the patch of bright green clover. He was focused entirely on the pair of finches hopping about in front of him.

Berryheart watched with amusement as the birds avoided Bluestripe’s sudden lunge, sending the tom into a tumble. “Thorns and thistles!” he hissed.

He got back on his paws, shook out his pelt, then turned away with an irritated whisk of his tail. He spotted something else further ahead and dropped into another hunting crouch. The new attempt was much more successful. He hurried back toward the proud Berryheart, a plump water vole clutched in his jaws.

“No, no,” came a small cry beside her. It was Skypaw. “Mom, no!”

Berryheart turned about quickly, to see that her companion was still asleep, but moaning and thrashing, obviously in the throes of some nightmare.

“Skypaw?” She nudged him with a paw.

“No, Mom!” he wailed, shifting away from her, and she looked down to see his paws kicking, as if he was running away from something.

“Skypaw,” Berryheart meowed again, more forcefully. She nudged him again, hard enough to shake him.

His blue eyes snapped open and he looked about frantically before focusing on Berryheart. “What?”

“You seemed to be having a nightmare.”

Skypaw continued to stare at her, calming himself with each breath he took.

Bluestripe padded up and dropped the water vole in front of them. “Are you hungry?”

Skypaw sat up and shook out his fur, finally recovered. “Is there enough?”

“This one is just for you two,” Bluestripe explained. “I’m going to catch something else.”

Skypaw turned back to Berryheart as the other tom hurried away. “How long was I asleep?”

Berryheart purred, trying to comfort him. “You had a good nap,” she answered.

Skypaw groomed his chest fur and straightened himself, looking all around, trying to regain his bearings. “I look forward to seeing Green Trees again,” he remarked and he leaned down for a bite. They ate in silence for a few heartbeats, then Skypaw sat up to clean his whiskers. “Green Trees,” he mewed again, looking back at Berryheart. “I’ve thought about it every day since I left. ForestClan’s territory is by far the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes lingered on her, gaze warm and piercing, and she blinked and averted her own, unnerved at herself. “It may not be as you remember it. Time changes perception.”

“Sometimes it does,” Skypaw agreed, and when Berryheart looked up to see that he was continuing scrutinize her, she knew what he was talking about. “Sometimes for the better.”

They were briefly interrupted by Bluestripe’s return. He dropped onto the ground next to them and dug into a thrush he’d caught. The she-cat was grateful for the distraction as the toms began a discussion about what had gone on in the moons since they’d last really conversed.

“It must be difficult having sworn your life to LightClan,” the ForestClan warrior mewed, wanting to learn more about his friend’s new life. “Not being able to visit the places you like. Or do the things you like.”

“Or be with those I love?” Skypaw couldn’t help glancing at Berryheart.

“Are you allowed to love?” Berryheart asked bluntly. “I thought it was forbidden for a LightClan cat.”

“Attachment is forbidden,” Skypaw began, his voice dispassionate, as if he was reciting. “Possession is forbidden. Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is central to a LightClan cat’s life, so you might say we’re encouraged to love.”

“You’ve changed so much,” Bluestripe mewed warmly.

Berryheart found herself regarding Skypaw as closely as he did her, leaning forward slightly as if to invite …

She blinked as Skypaw offered a reply to Bluestripe. “You haven’t changed a bit. You’re both exactly the way I remember you. I doubt if Green Trees has changed much either.”

“It hasn’t …” Berryheart’s voice was breathless. They were too close together. She knew that. She knew that she was in dangerous territory here, both for herself and for Skypaw. He was an apprentice, a LightClan apprentice, and LightClan cats were not allowed …

And what about her? What about all she had worked so hard for all her life after completing her apprenticeship? What about the Tribe of Gathering, and the all-important stone-casting against the creation of an army? If Berryheart got involved with a LightClan cat, the implications concerning her stone-cast would become huge! The army, if one was created, would be made to stand beside LightClan and its duties, and yet Berryheart would stand against that army, and so …

And so?

It was all so complicated, but even more important than that, it was all so dangerous. She thought of her sister then, and their last conversation before Berryheart had left for the Gathering Place. She thought of Russetkit and Poolkit.

“You were dreaming about your mother earlier,” Bluestripe remarked, effectively changing the subject.

Berryheart sat back putting some distance between her and Skypaw, gaining some amount of safety between them. “Weren’t you?”

Skypaw shifted and looked away, lowering his head slowly. “I left Great-Sand-Place so long ago. My memory of her is fading. Gold’s, too.” He looked desperately back at the two ForestClan cats. “I don’t want to lose those memories. I don’t want to stop seeing their faces.”

The she-cat started to tell him, “I know,” and started to lift her tail to touch his cheek, but she held back and let him continue, noting Bluestripe’s equal concern.

“I’ve been seeing her in my dreams. Vivid dreams. Scary dreams. I worry about them both.”

“I’d be disappointed in you if you didn’t,” Bluestripe answered him, his voice soft and full of sympathy. “You didn’t leave them under the best of circumstances.”

Skypaw flinched, as if hurt by the statement.

“But it was right that you left,” Berryheart reminded him, placing her paw over Skypaw’s. She held his gaze with her own. “Your leaving was what your mother wanted from you. What both of them needed for you. The opportunity that Moonlight offered you gave them hope. That’s what a parent needs for her kit and a brother for his sibling, to know that he, that you, had been given a chance at a better life.”

“But the dreams –”

“You can’t help but feel a little guilty about leaving, I suppose,” Bluestripe answered, and Skypaw was lowering his ears and looking at him, as if he was missing the point.

Berryheart stepped in. “It’s only natural that you’d want your mother and brother away from Great-Sand-Place, out here with you, perhaps. Or at Green Trees, or the Gathering Place, or someplace that you feel safer, and more beautiful. Trust me, Skypaw,” she mewed softly but intently, and she touched the tip of her tail to his shoulder. “You did the right thing in going. For yourself, but more importantly, for your family.”

Her gaze, so full of compassion, so full of caring, was not one that Skypaw of LightClan could argue against.

Green Trees was vastly different from the Gathering Place. Green Trees, from the large swamp where the Tribe of Deep Waters lived to the plains, lakes, and forests that made up ForestClan’s vast territory, was much quieter. The cats who lived here were more spread out and friendlier. Adding comfort.

Skypaw and Berryheart traveled across a familiar stretch of grass with a few trees here and there, a place where they had seen battle moons before against the treacherous cats of FieldClan. Bluestripe moved ahead them, padding along happily, tail raised high, as if he were an extension of the comfortable aura.

Berryheart kept covertly glancing at Skypaw, noting the serenity in his eyes, the purr that grew louder.

“If I grew up here, I don’t think I’d ever leave,” Skypaw remarked.

Berryheart mrrowed with laughter. “I doubt that.”

“No, really. When I started my training, I was very homesick and very lonely. This place and my mother and brother were the only pleasant things I had to think about.”

Berryheart’s gaze turned to one of curiosity and confusion. Skypaw’s time here had been spent, mostly, in deadly battle! Were his feelings toward her, toward Green Trees, so strong that even the bad memories paled against them?

“The problem was,” Skypaw went on, “the more I thought about my family, the worse I felt. But I would feel better if I thought about Green Trees and ForestClan.”

He didn’t indicate it outright, but Berryheart knew that what he really meant was that he felt better when he thought about her, or at least that he would include her in those pleasant thoughts.

“The way the water shimmers in the sunlight, the way the air always smells of flowers.”

“And the soft sound of the distant waterfalls,” Berryheart added. She could not deny the sincerity in Skypaw’s voice, and she found herself agreeing and embracing that truth of Green Trees, despite her resolve to stay away from those feelings. “The first time I saw the main camp, I was just about to begin my apprenticeship. I’d never seen such a large camp. I thought it was so beautiful. I never thought that one day I’d live there myself.”

“Well, tell me, did you dream of power and prestige when you were a kit?”

Again Berryheart mrrowed loudly with laughter. “No, that was the last thing I thought of.” She could feel the wistfulness creeping into her, the memories of those long-ago moons before her innocence had been shattered by war, and even more so, by the constant deceptions and conniving of other Clan mediators. She could hardly believe that she was opening up to Skypaw like this. “My dream was to assist traveling cats along the border. I never thought of being a mediator or a leader. But after I became a warrior, I attacked my duties with such a passion that before I knew it, I was selected to be Forestspeaker.”

Berryheart looked at Skypaw and flicked her tail, trying not to throw all humility away. “Partly because of my mentor’s high praise,” she explained. “But for the most part, my ascent was because of my conviction that reform is possible. The cats of ForestClan embraced that dream wholeheartedly, so much so that my age was hardly an issue in their decision. I wasn’t the youngest leader ever selected, but now that I think back on it, I’m not sure I was old enough.” She paused and locked stares with Skypaw. “I’m not sure I was ready.”

“Your Clanmates thought you did well,” Skypaw reminded her. “I heard they tried to amend ForestClan’s warrior code so that you could remain as Forestspeaker.”

“Popular rule is not true freedom, Skypaw. It gives cats what they want, not what they need. And truthfully, I was relieved when my time was up.” Berryheart purred as she continued, adding emphasis. “So was my family! They worried about me during the confrontation with FieldClan and couldn’t wait for it all to be over. Actually, I was hoping to have kits of my own by now …”

She turned away, feeling flustered. How could she be so open to him, and so quickly? He was not a longtime friend, she reminded herself, but the warning sounded hollow in her thoughts. She looked back at Skypaw, and she felt so at ease, so comfortable with him, almost as if they had been friends for all their lives. “My sister has the most amazing, wonderful kits.” Her eyes were sparkling, she knew, but she blinked the emotion away, as Berryheart often blinked away her personal desires for the sake of what she perceived to be the greater good. “But when the new Forestspeaker asked me to take the position of mediator, I couldn’t refuse her,” she explained.

“I agree!” Skypaw replied. “I think the Tribe of Gathering needs you. I’m glad you chose to accept – I feel things are going to happen in our generation that will change the Clans and Tribes in profound ways.”

“A LightClan premonition?” Berryheart joked.

Skypaw purred. “A feeling,” he explained, or tried to explain, for it was obvious that he wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to tell her. “It just seems to me as if it’s all grown stale, as if something has to happen –”

“I think so, too,” Berryheart put in sincerely.

The three cats had arrived at the entrance of the main ForestClan camp, and paused to take in the scene. The camp was surrounded by moss-covered stones and tall trees. Dens had been carefully dug beneath large roots and stone overhangs. Many cats crowded in and around the center of camp.

Berryheart and Bluestripe knew their way around the large camp, obviously, and she was well known by almost every cat within, and so the trio padded along easily to Forestspeaker’s den, where they were invited in at once.

Warm faces greeted them. Bubblenose, Berryheart’s dear friend and ForestClan’s medicine cat, stood near the mossy root where the current Forestspeaker sat. He hadn’t seemed to age much over the past moons, grey tabby fur still meticulously groomed, his eyes still full of that intensity that Berryheart so loved.

On the root beside him, the she-cat currently called Forestspeaker looked every bit the part of leader. She was covered ears to tail in the traditional mixture of clay-dust, tansy, and catmint that all ForestClan leaders did, the same mixture that Berryheart had coated her own white fur with, and the mediator thought that the other looked as regal as she likely had.

Other ForestClan cats, mostly den-guards, were all about, and Berryheart reflected that one of the side effects of being a leader, and not a pleasant one, was that one was never allowed to be alone.

Forestspeaker, sitting perfectly straight, rose and padded over to greet Berryheart personally. “We’ve been so worried about you. I’m so glad you’re here, Berryheart,” she mewed, her voice rich and sincere.

“Thank you, Forestspeaker. I only wish I could have done my duties better by remaining in the Gathering Place for the casting of stones.”

“Foxstar sent a messenger to explain everything,” Bubblenose interjected. “Returning home was the only real choice you could have made.”

Berryheart dipped her head toward him reluctantly. Still, being sent home to Green Trees bothered her; she had worked so very hard against the Army Creation Deal.

“How many Clans have joined Birdclaw and the Tribe of Shadows?” Forestspeaker asked bluntly. She had never been one for small talk.

“Many,” Berryheart answered. “And more are leaving the Tribe of Gathering every sunrise. If the Tribe of Gathering chooses to create an army, I’m sure it’s going to push us into war.”

Bubblenose lashed his tail. “It’s unthinkable,” he hissed, baring his teeth. “There hasn’t been an all-out war since the formation of the Tribe of Gathering.”

“Do you see any way, through negotiations, to bring these Clans back into the Tribe of Gathering?” Forestspeaker asked, staying calm despite Bubblenose’s obvious agitation.

“Not if they feel threatened.” It amazed Berryheart to realize how secure she was in this guess. “She felt as if she was beginning to fully understand the nuances of her position, as if she could trust her instincts implicitly. And all of her talents would be needed, she knew. “The Tribe of Shadows doesn’t have a singular army, but if provoked, the Clans within it will move to defend themselves. I’m sure of that. And my guess is that most of the warriors fighting will be FieldClan.”

“FieldClan!” Forestspeaker echoed with anger and distaste. All in ForestClan knew well the problems associated with that Clan. FieldClan had nearly brought ForestClan to the brink of destruction, and would have had it not been for the heroics of Berryheart, a pair of LightClan cats, a young kit, and the bravery of the dedicated warriors and apprentices of ForestClan. Even that would not have been enough, had they not formed an unexpected alliance with the heroic Tribe of Deep Waters. “Why has nothing been done in the Tribe of Gathering to restrain them?”

“I’m afraid that, despite Foxstar’s best efforts, there are still many cats, including mediators, that continue to sympathize with them,” Berryheart admitted.

“Then it is true that FieldClan has moved closer to the Tribe of Shadows, as we suspected,” Forestspeaker admitted.

Bubblenose hissed again, drawing their attention. “It’s a load of badger droppings!” he growled. “It’s mouse-brained that after everything that has happened, Newtstar and his traitorous Clan still roam free. Do those fox-hearts control everything?”

“Remember, Bubblenose, the Tribe was able to limit FieldClan’s territory,” Forestspeaker reminded, again holding her calm and controlled voice. “That’s a move in the right direction.”

Berryheart twitched, knowing that she had to report honestly. “There are rumors that FieldClan has not decreased their territory as they were ordered.”

Lifting his tail, Skypaw stepped forward. “LightClan has not been allowed to investigate,” he explained. “It would potentially lead to mistrust among the other Clans, we were told.”

Forestspeaker looked to him and dipped her head, looked back to Berryheart, then lifted her chin and tail, looking very much the regal Clan leader loyal to the Tribe of Gathering. “We must keep our faith in the Tribe,” she declared. “The sunrise we stop believing freedom exists is the sunrise we lose it.”

“Let’s hope to StarClan that sunrise never comes,” Berryheart quietly answered.

“In the meantime, we must consider your own safety,” Forestspeaker meowed, and she indicated for the den-guards to depart. Bubblenose moved near to Skypaw, the appointed protector, then paused, waiting for all of the others to be gone. At last, he turned to regard Skypaw. “As a LightClan warrior, what is your suggestion?”

“He’s not a warrior yet, Bubblenose,” Berryheart interrupted. “Skypaw’s still an apprentice. I was thinking –”

Skypaw cut her a hurt look, obviously put off by her dismissal.

Berryheart refused to back down. “I was thinking I would stay in the old lake camp. There are a few dens there that are very isolated.”

She turned to stare challengingly at Skypaw, but the LightClan tom gazed back thoughtfully. “If we were anywhere else I would remind you that I am supposed to be in charge of your safety.” He lifted his tail to ward off her retort. “However, this _is_ your home territory and you _would_ know it far better than I, and it would make the most since for us to make use of your knowledge in this instance.”

Berryheart saw the hurt still in his eyes, and felt guilty for demeaning him.

“A wise choice,” an obviously amused Bubblenose meowed, startling Berryheart out of her thoughts. “The old lake camp is in the most distant part of our territory. Not many cats living there, and a clear view of the surrounding area. It would be an excellent choice, a place where you would have a much easier time protecting Berryheart.”

“Perfect!” Forestspeaker agreed. “It’s settled then.”

Berryheart gave Skypaw an apologetic look. He looked back and dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“Berryheart,” Forestspeaker went on, “I had a meeting with your father two sunrises ago. I told him what was happening. He hopes you will visit your mother before you do anything else. Your family’s very worried about you.”

 _How could they not be?_ Berryheart thought, and it pained her to consider that the dangers her strong positions were bringing to her were affecting others whom she loved. _How could they not?_ It was a perfect reminder of why family and duty didn’t always mix. Berryheart had made a conscious and definitive choice: duty or family. Some in ForestClan balanced the two, but Berryheart had always known that such a dual role as a mate, perhaps even a mother, and a mediator would not do well for family or Clan.

She hadn’t been worried about her own safety at all through these trials, willing to make whatever sacrifices were necessary. But now, suddenly, she had to remember that her choices and positions could affect others on a very personal level, as well.

Her eyes were troubled as she walked with Skypaw, Bubblenose, and Bluestripe out of the den and toward the camp entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments down below!


	15. Frustrations and Unlikely Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a challenge to those of you who know Star Wars: can you find the character cameo I slipped into this chapter and do you recognize the character's significance?

Sunleap was back in the LightClan camp, this time choosing to wait for Glowlight. He examined the markings done with berry juice on the walls of the Chamber of History, located next to the medicine cat den. Some of the markings showed images of past battles, some showed images of different places and cats, while others showed images of past and present LightClan cats. It was an image of a single tom that held Sunleap’s attention. He studied it closely, as if examining the depiction would give him some insight into the cat’s motivations. There weren’t too many cats in the den and so the warrior expected that Glowlight would approach him shortly.

He stood patiently, studying the clean image, the long and muscular body, the meticulously kept pelt, the eyes, wide and alert. Sunleap hadn’t known this tom, this legend, Birdclaw, very well, but he had seen him on occasion and he knew that this image captured the essence of Birdclaw perfectly. There was an intensity about the cat as palpable as that which had surrounded Moonlight, especially when Moonlight had found a particularly important cause. Moonlight would go against the Council when he felt that he was right, as he had done with Skypaw some moons earlier, before the Council had agreed to recognize that the young cat’s special circumstances, the incredible Force potential and the promise that he might be the one spoken of in prophecy.

Yes, Sunleap had seen this kind of intensity in Moonlight on occasion, but what he knew of Birdclaw was that, unlike Moonlight, the tom had never been able to ignore it, had always been stalking around, mulling over an issue. The lights in his eyes were ever-burning fires.

But Birdclaw had taken it to extremes, and dangerous ones, Sunleap realized. He had left LightClan, had walked out on his calling and on his Clanmates. Whatever problems Birdclaw must have seen, he should have recognized that he could better solve them by remaining within the Clan.

“Did you wish for assistance?” came a stern voice behind Sunleap, drawing him from his thoughts. He turned to see Glowlight standing beside him, her head tilted slightly in expectance. She was a frail-looking cat, quite old, and noting that brought a purr rumbling to his throat. How many younger and less experienced cats had looked upon that façade, the small and thin body, the long, soft white and yellow fur, thinking that they could push the she-cat around only to encounter the truth that was Glowlight? She had been a sage first, that weak façade hiding her true strength and determination. Glowlight had been the medicine cat and keeper of LightClan’s history for many, many moons now, and this was her place, her territory. Any LightClan cat coming in here, even the cats within the Council, would play by the rules of Glowlight, or they would surely face her wrath.

“Yes, yes I did,” Sunleap finally managed to respond, realizing that Glowlight was staring at him inquisitively, awaiting an answer.

The old she-cat purred and moved past him to regard the image of Birdclaw. “He looks quite powerful, doesn’t he?” she commented, her quiet tone taking the tension out of the meeting. “He was one of the most brilliant cats I have ever had the privilege of knowing.”

“I never understood why he left,” Sunleap mewed, following Glowlight’s look to the image. “Only twenty cats have ever left LightClan.”

“The Lost Twenty,” Glowlight mewed with a profound sigh. “And Birdclaw was the most recent and the most painful. No one likes to talk about it. His leaving was a great loss to the Clan.”

“What happened?”

“Well, one might say he was a bit out of step with the decisions of the Council,” the medicine cat replied. “Much like your old mentor, Moonlight.”

Even though Sunleap had just been thinking the same thing, somewhat, to hear Glowlight utter it so definitively caught him off guard, and placed Moonlight in a more rebellious light than he had ever considered. He knew that his former mentor had his moments, of course, the greatest of those being the confrontations concerning Skypaw, but he had never thought of Moonlight as that much of a rebel. Apparently, Glowlight, who had her paw right on the comings and goings of the Clan, did.

“Really?” Sunleap prompted, wanting the information about Birdclaw, of course, but also hoping to gain some insight into his old and beloved mentor.

“Oh, yes, they were alike in many ways. Very individual thinkers. Idealists.” She stared at the image intently, and it seemed to Sunleap as if she had suddenly gone far, far away. “He was always striving to become a more powerful warrior. He wanted to be the best. With a Force-Crystal, using the old styles of fighting, he had no match. His knowledge of the Force was … unique. In the end, I think he left because he lost faith in the Tribe of Gathering. He believed that the mediators were corrupt …”

Glowlight paused for a moment and looked at Sunleap, a very revealing expression that showed she did not think Birdclaw as out of step as many of the others apparently did.

“And he felt that LightClan betrayed itself by following the rule of the Tribe,” the medicine cat stated.

Sunleap blinked, soaking in the statement. He knew that many, Moonlight included – even himself included, at times – often felt the same way.

“He always had very high expectations of the mediators,” Glowlight went on. “He disappeared for moons, then just showed up recently as the leader of the Tribe of Shadows.”

“Interesting,” Sunleap remarked, looking from the image to the medicine cat. “I’m still not sure I understand.”

“None of us does,” Glowlight replied, her seriousness melting as a purr grew in her throat. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t call me over here for a history lesson. Are you having a problem, Sunleap?”

“Yes, I’m seeking information about a group called the Tribe of White Waters. There doesn’t seem to be anything about them on the walls and your apprentice knew nothing about them either.”

“The Tribe of White Waters?” Glowlight looked around, running her eyes along the images on the walls of her den. “It’s not a Tribe I’m familiar with. Let me see.”

They padded along the walls, studying the images that Sunleap had been examining. The medicine cat’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Do you know where they are supposed to live?”

“According to my information, they live in a place called Wet Trees,” replied Sunleap. “About one moon of travel away from the Tribe’s borders.”

A few more heartbeats of examination brought nothing more than frustration to Glowlight’s blue eyes. “Where _exactly_ are they supposed to be?”

“I only know they’re supposed to be in Wet Trees,” Sunleap admitted, and Glowlight stopped to regard him.

“Nothing specific? It sounds like the sort of information you’d get from a loner – some old wanderer or a cat looking for random fights.”

“All three, actually,” Sunleap admitted with a purr.

“Are you sure this Tribe exists?”

“Absolutely.”

Glowlight took one last look at all of the images depicted on the walls. Finally she sat back and tapped her tail pensively on the ground. “There is a depiction here that might be your Wet Trees and there is some small inconsistencies with the image,” the sharp medicine cat noted. “But, and I hate to say it, there’s nothing to indicate that this Tribe of White Waters even exists.”

“That’s impossible – perhaps they just haven’t been depicted yet.”

“These images are comprehensible and totally secure, my young warrior,” came the imposing response, the old she-cat stepping back from her familiarity with Sunleap and assuming again the demeanor of history-keeper and medicine cat. “One thing you may be absolutely sure of: If there is no depiction here, it does not exist.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment, Sunleap taking note that there wasn’t the slightest tremor of doubt in Glowlight’s declaration.

He looked back to the image, perplexed, caught within a seemingly unanswerable question. He knew that no living cat was more reliable for information than Dex, unless that cat was Glowlight, and yet the two were obviously at odds here concerning their information. Dex had seemed every bit as certain of the origins of the centipede as Glowlight was now. Both couldn’t be right.

The puzzle of finding Berryheart’s would-be assassin would not be easily solved, it seemed, and that troubled Sunleap for many, many reasons. Bidding Glowlight farewell, the warrior turned and left the chamber.

But not without one long, last look at the imposing image of Birdclaw.

A little while later, Sunleap turned away from the Chamber of History and the medicine cats and turned within, to his own insights, instead. He found a small, comfortable chamber alongside the Highledge, one of many such chambers designated for quiet moments of inner reflection. He could hear the stream bubbling below the Highledge as he settled on a stone covered with soft moss and curled his tail around his paws. The water was trickling along polished stones, making a delicate sound, a background noise natural in its beauty and in the simplicity of its song. A song that invited him not to pay it heed, but to surround himself with it, helping him to fall far away from his immediate surroundings.

There, in his trance, Sunleap sought his answers. He focused on the mystery of Wet Trees and the mysterious Tribe within it, expecting that Dex’s assessment was correct. But why was this Tribe not depicted in the Chamber of History?

Another image invaded Sunleap’s meditations as he tried to sort through the puzzle, and image of Skypaw and Berryheart together at Green Trees.

The warrior started, suddenly afraid that this was a premonition, and that some danger would visit his apprentice and the young mediator …

But no, he realized, settling back. No danger was about; the two were relaxed and at play.

Sunleap’s relief lasted only as long as it took him to realize that the continuing image in his mind might be the most dangerous thing of all. He dismissed it, though, unsure if this was a premonition, an image of reality, or just his own fears playing out before him. Sunleap pointedly reminded himself that the sooner he solved the mystery of the Tribe of White Waters, the mystery of who so desperately wanted Berryheart dead, the sooner he could return to Skypaw and offer the proper guidance.

The warrior focused again on the image of Birdclaw, searching for insights, but for some reason, the image of Skypaw kept becoming interposed with that of the rogue Birdclaw …

Soon after, a frustrated and thoroughly bewildered Sunleap padded out of the small chamber, ears tilted back and no more certain of anything than he had been when he had entered.

His patience exhausted into frustration, the warrior tom decided to seek a higher authority, one wiser and more experienced. His short journey took him out of the camp and to the training-place just outside, and there he paused and watched, and in the innocent scene before him found some relief from the frustration.

Lightstar was leading a group of the youngest LightClan cats, kits between three and six moons old, through their sunhigh training exercises, battling floating pebbles wrapped in mouse pelts.

Sunleap recalled his own early training. He couldn’t see the eyes of the kits, for they kept their eyes tightly closed, but he could well imagine the range of emotions playing out in their innocent minds. There would be intensity, and then great joy whenever a strike from a pebble was blocked, and that elation would inevitably dissipate in the next heartbeat, when the joy brought distraction and distraction allowed the next strike to slip past and bring a sudden, jolting thwack.

And those thwacks did sting, Sunleap remembered, as much physically as in pride. There was nothing worse than getting struck, particularly in the hindquarters. It always caused one to hop and twist about, which naturally made the embarrassment all the worse. Sunleap recalled that feeling vividly, recalled thinking that every cat present was staring at him.

The training could be humiliating.

But it was also energizing, because with the failures would come the successes, each one building confidence, each one lending insights into the flowing beauty that was the Force, heightening the connection that separated a LightClan cat from any other cat.

To see Lightstar leading the training now, looking exactly as he had when he had led Sunleap’s training many moons ago, brought a feeling of warmth to the LightClan warrior.

“Don’t think … feel,” Lightstar instructed the group. “Be as one with the Force.”

Sunleap, purring, listening closely as Lightstar finished, “Help you, it will.”

How many times he had heard that!

He was purring a little louder when Lightstar turned to him. “Younglings, enough!” the great LightClan leader commanded. “A visitor we have. Welcome him.”

Fourteen pairs of eyes flew open and the kits came to attention together, standing side by side and looking alertly toward the newcomer as the pebbles fell to the ground.

“LightClan warrior Sunleap,” Lightstar mewed, keeping enough weight in his voice so that the kits wouldn’t feel mocked.

“Welcome, Sunleap!” the kits called out together.

“I am sorry to disturb you, Lightstar,” Sunleap mewed, dipping his head respectfully.

“What help to you, can I be?”

Sunleap considered the question for a heartbeat. He had specifically come out here looking for Lightstar, but now, in seeing the small tom at his important work, he wondered if he had let his patience fall away too quickly. Was it his place to ask Lightstar to help him with a task that was his own responsibility? It didn’t take long for Sunleap to dismiss the question. He was a mere warrior, Lightstar, his leader, and his responsibilities and Lightstar’s were ultimately one and the same. He didn’t expect that Lightstar could help him with this particular problem, but then again, Lightstar had always been full of surprises, full of going far beyond any expectations.

“I’m looking for a group described to me by an old friend, the Tribe of White Waters,” he explained, and he knew that Lightstar was absorbing everything he told him. “I trust him and the information he provided, but there’s nothing about them in the Chamber of History.” As he finished, the older tom appeared thoughtful.

“An interesting puzzle,” Lightstar answered. “Lost a Tribe, Sunleap has. How embarrassing … how embarrassing. An interesting puzzle. Come, kits, to the Chamber of History. Clear your minds and find Sunleap’s missing Tribe, we will try.”

They went back inside to the Chamber of History. Sunleap led Lightstar to the image of Wet Trees on the wall, the kits dutifully following.

Sunleap paused for a couple of heartbeats before presenting his dilemma, allowing the kits to get past the initial excitement. He watched with some amusement as some of the smaller ones reached up and touched the different images on the walls. Then, when all quieted, he padded up to the wall and indicated the depiction of Wet Trees. “This is where the Tribe ought to be,” he explained. “There are marks here that could indicate hunting places within this area, Wet Trees. There should be a Tribe camp and territory here, but none is marked.”

“Most interesting,” Lightstar mewed. “Indication of hunting remains, but the camp and its territory has disappeared. How can this be? Now, kits, in your mind, what is the first thing you see? An answer? A thought? Anyone?”

Sunleap took Lightstar’s quiet cue and paused then, watching the LightClan leader look over his gathering.

A paw rose, and while Sunleap felt the urge to purr with amusement at the idea of a kit solving a riddle that had befuddled a trio of accomplished LightClan cats, including Lightstar and Glowlight, he noted that Lightstar was quite focused and serious.

Lightstar dipped his head to the kit, a brown and white tom, who answered at once. “Because some cat removed the markings on the image.”

“That’s right!” a black she-kit agreed at once. “That’s what happened! Some cat removed them!”

“If it never existed, there wouldn’t be hunting areas marked there,” another kit, a light ginger tom, called out.

Sunleap stared blankly at the excited group, stunned, but Lightstar only purred.

“Truly wonderful, the mind of a kit is,” he explained. “Uncluttered. The image must have been marked over.”

Lightstar started out of the chamber and Sunleap moved to follow, gesturing to the kits to do the same.

“To the center of the hunting marks go, and find this Tribe of White Waters you will,” Lightstar advised him.

“But Lightstar, who could have removed all indications of a Tribe from the Chamber of History? That’s impossible, isn’t it?”

“Dangerous and disturbing this puzzle is,” Lightstar replied with his ears lowered. “Only a LightClan cat could have accessed the Chamber of History. But who and why, harder to answer.” When they reached the den entrance, he turned to face Sunleap. “Meditate on this, I will. May the Force be with you.”

A thousand questions flitted through Sunleap’s mind, but he understood that Lightstar had just dismissed him. They each had their riddles, it seemed, but at least now Sunleap’s path seemed much clearer before him. He gave a deferential dip of his head, but Lightstar, already moving to lead the kits back outside, didn’t seem to notice.

As Sunleap turned to leave, he noticed one of the older kits, a pale, yellow tabby, hesitantly move toward him. He paused immediately, vaguely recognizing her but not quite placing her name.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” he asked politely.

She straightened herself. “I was just curious as to where Skypaw is,” she mewed. “I haven’t seen him around camp in the past half-moon.”

Ah. Now Sunleap recognized her. Tawnykit, who had taken quite a shine to his apprentice, following him all over the camp to every cat’s amusement. Skypaw, however, appeared equally fond of the young she-kit, treating her like a younger sibling. 

“Skypaw is away for an assignment,” he explained gently. “He will return when his task is done and I’m sure you’ll hear all about it.”

She perked up at that, then quickly dipped her head to him and scurried after the others. Sunleap watched her go before padding away.

Soon after, not wanting to waste a heartbeat, Sunleap was waiting by the path between the Gathering Place and the LightClan camp. Violetlight was there beside him, the tall and muscular LightClan deputy regarding Sunleap with his typically calm and controlled demeanor. There was something reassuring about Violetlight, a sense of power and, even more than that, of destiny. Violetlight had a way of silently assuring all those around him that things would work out as they were supposed to.

“Be wary,” he mewed to Sunleap, tilting his head and lifting his tail up just a bit, a posture that made him seem all the more impressive. “This disturbance in the Force is growing stronger.”

Sunleap dipped his head, though in truth, his concerns were more focused and tangible at that moment. “I’m concerned for my apprentice. He is not ready to be on his own.”

Violetlight flicked his tail, as if to remind Sunleap that they had discussed this already. “He has exceptional skills,” the dark brown tom replied. “The Council is confident in its decision, Sunleap. Not all of the questions about him have been answered, of course, but his talents cannot be dismissed, and we are not disappointed in the progress he has made with your training.”

Sunleap considered this carefully, knowing that he was walking a whisker-thin line here. If he overstated his concerns about Skypaw’s temperament, he might be doing a great disservice to LightClan and to the Tribe of Gathering. And yet, if he let the magnitude of his assignment in training Skypaw bring him to silence on legitimate questions, then was he doing great harm?

“If the prophecy is true, Skypaw will be the one to bring balance to the Force,” Violetlight finished.

“But he still has much to learn. His skills have made him … well –” Sunleap paused, trying to walk that thin line now. “– arrogant. I realize now what you and Lightstar knew from the beginning. He was too old to start training, and …”

The narrowing hazel eyes signaled Sunleap that he might be pushing too hard.

“There’s something else,” Violetlight observed.

Sunleap took a deep and steadying breath. “Violetlight, Skypaw and I should not have been given this assignment. I’m afraid Skypaw won’t be able to protect Berryheart.”

“Why?”

“He has a … an emotional connection with her. It’s been there since he was a kit. Now he’s confused, and distracted.” As he stated this, Sunleap noticed a she-cat approaching from the Gathering Place. He recognized her and gestured to her with his tail.

“So you have already stated,” Violetlight reminded. “And your concerns were weighed properly, and did not change the decision of the Council. Sunleap, you must have faith that Skypaw will take the right path.”

It made sense, of course. If Skypaw was to become a great leader, a cat of prophecy, then surely his assessments must be passed. Skypaw was facing one of those assessments right now, Sunleap knew, off in seclusion in a distant forest with a she-cat whom he loved too deeply. He had to be strong enough to pass the assessment; Sunleap just hoped that Skypaw recognized the trial for what it was.

“Has Lightstar gained any insight as to whether or not this war will come about?” he asked, somewhat changing the subject, though he felt that it was all very connected. Finding the assassin, making peace with the Tribe of Shadows – all of these things would allow him to focus more closely on Skypaw’s training and would keep things at better balance around the troubled apprentice.

“Probing the dark side is a dangerous process,” Violetlight stated. “I know not when he will choose to begin, but when he does, it is quite possible that he will remain in seclusion for many sunrises.”

Sunleap dipped his head in agreement as the she-cat hurried to meet him. Violetlight purred and waved his tail as he turned back to camp. “May the Force be with you.”

“I’m glad you came, Redspot,” Sunleap told the she-cat.

The ForestClan warrior flicked her tail. “You said this might lead to the cat who tried to harm my Clanmate. Of course I came, and with Jayeye’s support.”

He purred as he led the way into the forest. _Let’s get this thing moving,_ he thought to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to drop comments and kudos below!


	16. Family Gathering and Mixed Emotions

It was a scene of simplicity, of kits playing and older cats lounging quietly under the warm sun, or sharing tongues in the shade of bright green bushes. It was a scene of absolute normalcy for ForestClan, but it was nothing like Skypaw had ever witnessed. In the Great-Sand-Place, cats lived far apart from each other, out in the desert, or in small camps like the one he had lived in. In the Gathering Place, there were few plants and fewer trees. Just stone and similar Twoleg materials as far as one could see. There were no cats sharing tongues, with kits running carefree about them, in either place.

To Skypaw, it was a scene of simple beauty.

He was padding along happily, enjoying the feel of grass beneath his paws as they approached a small camp near one of the lakes. Berryheart kept pace beside him with her white fur shining like a star. Skypaw kept glancing her way, stealing images to burn into his mind, to hold forever in a special place. She could be covered in dust, he realized, and still be beautiful.

Skypaw purred quietly as he recalled the clay-dust mixture Berryheart had used to disguise her pelt color as Forestspeaker. He liked her better like this, he decided. The mixture had given her fur a lovely reddish-brown color, but it wasn’t nearly as lovely as Berryheart’s own. As ForestClan’s leader, she had carried herself regally and with dignity.

But this was the way Skypaw wanted to see her, relaxed and undisguised.

“There it is!” Berryheart meowed suddenly, startling Skypaw from his pleasant daydreams.

He followed her gaze to see a large opening beneath a large tangle of tree roots, surrounded, like nearly every den in Green Trees, by clover and brightly-colored flowers. Berryheart started off immediately for the den entrance, but Skypaw didn’t follow right away. He studied the area, trying to see in it the environment that had created her. She had told him many stories about growing up here during their journey from the Gathering Place, and he was seeing those tales in his mind now that the den was in view.

“What?” Berryheart asked him from a fox-length away, when she noticed that he was not following.

“Don’t tell me you’re a scaredy-mouse!” Bluestripe teased him as he caught up.

“No, but I –” the distracted Skypaw started to answer, but he was interrupted by the squeaks of two tiny she-kits, running out from the den toward his she-cat companion.

“Aunt Berryheart! Aunt Berryheart!”

Berryheart purred louder than Skypaw had ever heard her and she rushed ahead, crouching low to greet the pair, who looked to be no more than a couple of moons old. One had a blue tabby pelt, the other, only slightly larger, had a brown pelt.

“Russetkit! Poolkit!” Berryheart cried, running her tongue over each of their heads as they bounded around her. “I’m so happy to see you!” She touched her nose to each of theirs, then led them toward the slowly-approaching Skypaw.

“This is Skypaw. Skypaw, this is Russetkit and Poolkit!”

The pair ducked their heads shyly as they greeted him, causing Berryheart to mrrow with laughter and a purr to reach Skypaw’s throat as he remembered another small, shy kit he knew long ago.

The kits’ shyness lasted only as long as it took for them to notice the blue and white tabby tom standing a rabbit hop behind Skypaw.

“Bluestripe!” they squeaked in unison. Breaking away from Berryheart, they rushed to their Clanmate, leaping upon him, knocking him off his paws.

And Bluestripe took it all in stride, playing with them as happily as Skypaw had ever seen him.

Skypaw couldn’t help but be touched by the scene, a view of innocence that he had never known.

 _Well, not never,_ he had to admit. There were times when Stalk had found some way to produce such moments of joy amid the drudgery that was life as a serf-cat, and times where he and Gold had found time to explore and play within the nearby Twoleg ruins. In their own way, in that dusty, dirty, hot, and smelly place, Skypaw and his family had clawed out a few heartbeats of innocent beauty.

Here, though, such moments seemed so much more normal occurrence than memorable exception.

Skypaw turned back to Berryheart, to see that she was no longer looking his way, but had turned toward the den, where another she-cat, who looked very much like Berryheart, was approaching.

Not exactly like Berryheart, Skypaw noted. She was a little darker, a little heavier, and a little more … _worn_ , was the only description he could think of. But not in a bad way. _Yes, I can see it now,_ he thought, watching as she and Berryheart greeted each other warmly. This was whom Berryheart could become – more settled, more content, perhaps. Considering the amazing resemblance, Skypaw was hardly surprised when Berryheart introduced the she-cat as her littermate, Sunbranch.

“They will be so happy to see you,” Sunbranch mewed to Berryheart. “It’s been a difficult moon.”

Berryheart lowered her ears. She knew that information about the attempts on her life would have reached her parents’ ears, and that was possibly the most disturbing thing of all to her.

Skypaw saw it all in her eyes, and he understood it well, and he loved her all the more for that generosity. Berryheart wasn’t really afraid of anything – she could handle the reality of her current situation, the reality of the fact that some cat was trying to kill her, with determination and courage. But the one thing about it all that troubled her, aside from the distraction from her duty, the ways it might weaken her position within the Tribe of Gathering and her own Clan, was the effect of such danger upon those she loved. He knew that she didn’t want to bring pain to her family.

Skypaw, who had left his mother as a serf-cat and his brother in hiding, could appreciate that.

“Mom and Dad will be back from hunting soon,” Sunbranch explained, noting Berryheart’s discomfort and generously changing the subject. “As usual, your timing is perfect.” She started toward the den. Berryheart waited for Skypaw to move beside her, then pressed her shoulder against his, looked up, purred warmly at him, and led him toward the den. Bluestripe followed along right behind, with Russetkit and Poolkit bouncing all about him.

The inside of the den very simple and comfortable. There were no bright colors or Twoleg-things in the den. The nests were made of soft moss and feathers; the entrance so wide that the sun shone easily in.

This was not a den as Skypaw had known in the Gathering Place, the Great-Sand-Place, or even the LightClan camp. No, seeing this place, this home, made the young LightClan apprentice even more convinced of what he had declared to Berryheart not so long before: that if he had grown up in ForestClan, he would never leave.

The next introductions were a bit more uncomfortable, but only for a heartbeat, as two more cats entered with a couple of large rabbits each. Berryheart first showed Skypaw to Tumblefrost, her father, a strong-shouldered tom with blue eyes that were fierce and compassionate all at once. His grey fur was short, but still a bit ruffled. Berryheart introduced Jewelstep next, and Skypaw knew that the she-cat was her mother without being told. The moment he met her, he understood where Berryheart had gotten her innocent and sincere personality, one that could beguile a group of fox-hearted rogues. Jewelstep had that same comforting feel, that same obvious generosity.

Soon after, Skypaw, Berryheart, and Tumblefrost were lounging in the den’s shade, comfortably quiet and listening to the play of Bluestripe and the kits just outside. Then they heard Sunbranch and Jewelstep returning with extra fresh-kill caught and buried earlier, Sunbranch repeatedly meowing, “Too much, Mom.” And every time they heard that, Tumblefrost and Berryheart purred knowingly.

“I doubt they’ve been starving all the way from the Gathering Place,” an exasperated Sunbranch meowed over her shoulder as she entered the den. She was carrying a large crow.

“Enough to feed the whole camp?” Berryheart asked Sunbranch quietly as her littermate dropped the moorhen atop the rabbits.

“You know how she is,” came the answer, and the tone told Skypaw that this was not an isolated incident, that Jewelstep was quite the hostess. Despite the fact that he had eaten recently, the rabbits and moorhen looked and smelled very tempting.

“No one has ever left this den hungry,” Sunbranch explained.

“Well, one cat did once,” Berryheart corrected. “But Mom chased him down and dragged him back in.”

“To feed him or eat him?” the quick-witted apprentice retorted, and the other three stared at him for just a heartbeat before catching on and mrrowing loudly with laughter.

They were still purring when Jewelstep entered the den, gripping a large moorhen in her jaws, which of course set them all off again. But then Jewelstep fixed an imposing stare over her family and the merriment quieted.

She set the moorhen down near Skypaw and touched her tail to his shoulder. “I hope you’re hungry, Skypaw.”

“A little.” He looked up and purred warmly at her.

The look of gratitude was not lost on Berryheart. She tossed a warm glance his way when he looked back at her. “He’s being polite,” she mewed. “We’re starving.”

Jewelstep purred loudly and dipped her head, offering superior glances at Sunbranch and Tumblefrost, who just mrrowed with laughter again. It was all so comfortable to Skypaw, so natural and so … so much like what he had always been wanting in his life, though perhaps he had not known it. This would be perfect, absolutely perfect, except that his mother and brother weren’t there.

His ears lowered briefly as he thought of his family in Great-Sand-Place, and considering the disturbing dreams that had been finding their way into his sleep of late. He pushed the thoughts away quickly and glanced around, glad that no cat seemed to have noticed.

“If you’re starving, then you came to the right place at the right time,” Tumblefrost mewed, looking at Skypaw as he finished. “Eat up!”

Jewelstep and Sunbranch settled themselves down as Bluestripe padded up with the kits close behind. Skypaw took a bite of the moorhen. The taste was unfamiliar, but surprisingly good. He remained quiet as he ate, listening with half an ear to the chatter all about him. He was thinking of his mother and brother again, of how he wished he could bring them here, free cats, to live the life they so deserved.

Some time passed before Skypaw tuned back in, cued by the sudden seriousness in Jewelstep’s voice as she mewed to Berryheart, “Berryheart, it’s so good to see you safe. We were so worried.”

Skypaw looked up from cleaning his whiskers just in time to see the intense, disapproving glare that Berryheart answered with. The two kits had already left the den to play in the clover. Tumblefrost, obviously trying to dispel the tension before it could really begin, rested his tail against his mate’s shoulder and quietly mewed, “Jewelstep –”

“I know, I know!” meowed the suddenly animated Jewelstep. “But I had to say it. Now it’s done.”

Sunbranch flicked her tail. “Well, this is exciting,” she meowed, and everyone looked at her. “So, Skypaw, which Clan are you from?”

“Sunbranch!” Berryheart exclaimed. She looked skyward and sighed. “Can’t you tell by the Force-Crystal? He’s from LightClan, assigned by the Tribe of Gathering to protect me.”

“A LightClan guard?” Jewelstep asked with great concern. “Great StarClan, they didn’t tell us it was _that_ serious!”

Berryheart’s sigh was intermixed with a groan. “It’s not,” she mewed. “I promise. Anyway, Skypaw’s a friend. I’ve known him for moons. Remember that little kit who was with the LightClan cats during the battle with FieldClan?”

Looks of recognition were exchanged. Then Berryheart looked warmly at Skypaw and told her family, with just enough weight to make him recognize that her previous claims about his place here weren’t entirely true, “He’s grown up.”

Skypaw glanced at Sunbranch and saw that she was staring at him, scrutinizing him. He shifted uncomfortably where he sat.

“Berryheart, when are you going to settle down?” Jewelstep went on. “Haven’t you had enough of that life? I certainly have!”

“I’m not in any danger,” Berryheart insisted, settling next to Skypaw.

“Is she?” Tumblefrost asked the other two toms.

Skypaw stared hard at Berryheart’s father, recognizing the honest concern. This tom, who obviously loved his daughter so much, deserved to know the truth.

The ever-tactless Bluestripe beat him to a response. “Yes, we’re afraid she is.”

Skypaw fought to not wince as he felt Berryheart press her paw down on his. “But not much,” she added quickly, and she glanced at Bluestripe with a threat in her eyes. “Skypaw,” she hissed quietly, her tone requesting his assistance.

“The Tribe thought it prudent to give her some time away, and under the protection of LightClan,” he mewed, his tone showing no sign of the pain he was feeling as Berryheart’s claws started to dig into his paw. “My mentor, Sunleap, is even now seeing to the matter. All should be well soon enough.”

His breath came easier as Berryheart moved her paw, and Tumblefrost, and even Jewelstep, seemed to relax. Skypaw knew he had done well, but he was surprised to see that Sunbranch was still staring at him, a gleam in her eyes as if she knew a secret.

He gave her a quizzical look, but she only purred.

“Sometimes I wish I’d gone on more patrols to the Gathering Place,” Tumblefrost admitted to Skypaw as the two wandered near the nearby lake. “But I must say, I’m happy here.”

“Berryheart tells me you’re a camp-guard.”

“Yes, and before that I was a den-guard for a previous Forestspeaker, that’s what I did when I met Jewelstep,” Tumblefrost answered. “I also joined border patrols, when I was a new warrior.”

Skypaw looked at him curiously, not really surprised. “You seem quite interested in interactions with non-ForestClan cats,” he remarked.

“ForestClan is generous,” Tumblefrost explained. “Our territory is, I mean. We have all that we want, all that we could want. Prey is plentiful, so is the water, the surroundings are –”

“Beautiful,” Skypaw put in.

“Quite so,” mewed Tumblefrost. “We are a very fortunate Clan, and we know it. That good fortune should not be taken for granted, and so we try to share and try to help. It is our way of saying that we welcome the friendship of those less fortunate, that we do not think ourselves entitled beyond what we deserve. And so we share, and in doing so, we become something larger than ourselves, and more fulfilled than one can become from idly enjoying good fortune!”

Skypaw considered this for a few heartbeats. “It is the same with LightClan, I suppose,” he mewed. “We have been given great gifts, and we train hard to make the most of those. And then we use our gifts to try and help others, to try to make everything a little bit better.”

“And to make the things we love a little bit safer?”

Skypaw looked at him, catching the meaning, and he purred and dipped his head. He saw respect in Tumblefrost’s eyes, and gratitude, and he was glad for both. He could not deny the way Berryheart looked at her family, the love that seemed to flow from her whenever any of them came into view, and he knew that if Tumblefrost or Jewelstep or Sunbranch didn’t like him, his relationship with Berryheart would be hurt.

He was glad, then, that he had come to this place, not only as Berryheart’s companion, but also as her protector.

Back in the den, Berryheart, Sunbranch, and Jewelstep were sitting together near the entrance watching Bluestripe and the kits. Berryheart noted the tension in her mother’s movements, and she knew that these latest events – the assassination attempts, the fights between the mediators over an issue that could well lead to war – were weighing heavily on her.

She looked to Sunbranch, too, to see if she might find some clue as to how to alleviate the tension, but all she found there was an obvious curiosity that set her off her balance more than had her mother’s concerned expression.

“What have you not told us about him?” Sunbranch asked with a sly glance.

“What’s there to talk about?” Berryheart replied as casually as she could. “He’s just another tom.”

“Another tom?” Sunbranch repeated with a purr. “Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

“Sunbranch! Stop it!”

“It’s obvious he has feelings for you,” Sunbranch went on. “Are you saying, dear sister, that you haven’t noticed?”

“I’m saying that there’s nothing _to_ notice, fuzz-brain,” Berryheart mewed flatly, her tone turning to true consternation. “Skypaw is a _LightClan_ _apprentice_. He and I are _friends_. Our relationship is _not_ _emotional_.”

Sunbranch purred louder.

“Mom, would you tell her to stop it?” Berryheart burst out in embarrassed frustration.

Now Sunbranch began mrrowing with laughter. “Well, maybe you _haven’t_ noticed the way he looks at you. I think you’re afraid to.”

“Cut it out!”

Jewelstep moved between the two and gave Sunbranch a stern look. Then she turned back to Berryheart. “Sunbranch is just concerned, dear,” she mewed. But her voice sounded to Berryheart like it was condescending, as if her mother was still trying to protect a helpless little kit.

“Oh, Mom, you’re impossible,” she meowed with a sigh of surrender. “What I’m doing is important.”

“You’ve done your duty, Berryheart,” Jewelstep answered. “It’s time you had a life of your own. You’re missing so much!”

Berryheart turned her head and closed her eyes, trying to accept the statement in the spirit with which it was offered. For a heartbeat, she regretted coming back here, to see the same old sights and hear the same old advice.

For just a heartbeat, though. Truthfully, when she considered it all, Berryheart had to admit she was glad to have cats who loved her and cared about her so much.

She offered her mother an appeasing look, and Jewelstep dipped her head and rested her tail on Berryheart’s shoulder. She turned to Sunbranch next, and saw that gleam still in her sister’s eyes.

What did Sunbranch see?

“Now tell me, Skypaw, how serious is this thing?” Tumblefrost asked bluntly as the two stood by the lake’s edge. “How much danger is my daughter really in?”

Skypaw didn’t hesitate this time, realizing, as he had earlier, that Berryheart’s father deserved nothing but honesty from him. “There have been two attempts on her life. Chances are, there’ll be more. But I wasn’t lying to you and wasn’t trying to minimize anything. My mentor _is_ tracking down the assassins. I’m sure he’ll find out who they are and take care of them. This situation won’t last long.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to her,” Tumblefrost mewed, with the gravity of a parent concerned over a beloved kit.

“I don’t either,” Skypaw assured him, with almost equal weight.

Berryheart stared at her littermate until, at last, Sunbranch broke down and asked, “What?”

The two of them were alone together, while Jewelstep had gone to find Tumblefrost and Skypaw by the lake.

“Why do you keep saying things about me and Skypaw?”

“Because it’s obvious,” Sunbranch replied. “You see it – you can’t deny it to yourself.”

Berryheart sighed and flopped to the ground, her posture and expression giving all the confirmation that Sunbranch needed.

“I thought LightClan cats weren’t supposed to think such things,” Sunbranch remarked.

“They’re not.”

“But Skypaw does.” Sunbranch’s statement brought Berryheart’s gaze up to meet hers. “You know I’m right.”

Berryheart dropped her ears helplessly, and Sunbranch purred.

“You think more like a LightClan cat than he does,” she mewed. “And you shouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Berryheart didn’t know whether to take offense, having no idea of where her sister was heading with this.

“You’re so tied up in your responsibilities that you don’t give any weight to _your_ desires,” Sunbranch explained. “Even with your own feelings toward Skypaw.”

“You don’t know how I feel about Skypaw.”

“You probably don’t either,” Sunbranch mewed. “Because you won’t allow yourself to even think about it. Being a mediator and being a mate aren’t mutually exclusive, you know.”

“My duties are important!”

“Who said they weren’t?” Sunbranch asked, widening her eyes. “It’s funny, Berryheart, because you act as if _you’re_ prohibited, and you’re not, while Skypaw acts as if he’s under no such prohibitions, and he is!”

“You’ve got bees in your brain,” Berryheart mewed. “Even setting aside that he’s an _apprentice_ from a _different Clan_ , Skypaw and I have only been together for a half-moon – before that, I hadn’t seen him in thirteen moons!”

Sunbranch flicked her tail. The sly gleam in her eyes changed to genuine concern for her sister. She crouched next to Berryheart and rested a paw over one of Berryheart’s. “I don’t know any of the details, and you’re right, I don’t know how you feel – about any of this. But I know how he feels, and so do you.”

Berryheart didn’t disagree. She just lay there, taking comfort from Sunbranch’s touch, gazing down at the ground, trying not to think.

“It frightens you,” Sunbranch remarked. Surprised, Berryheart looked back up.

“What are you afraid of? Sunbranch asked sincerely. “Are you afraid of _Skypaw’s_ feelings and the responsibilities that he cannot dismiss? Or are you afraid of your _own_ feelings?”

She lowered her head, so they were looking at each other directly, their faces only a breath apart. “I don’t know how you feel,” she admitted again. “But I suspect that it’s something new to you. Something scary, but something wonderful.”

Berryheart didn’t reply, but she knew that disagreement would not be honest.

“They’re a lot to handle, all at once,” Berryheart mewed to Skypaw later on, when they had departed with Bluestripe. They seemed to have barely arrived, and were now leaving for the old lake camp where they would be staying.

“I thought they were great,” Skypaw reassured her with a purr. “You’re lucky to have such a wonderful family, even if they talk as if the sun never sets.”

Berryheart purred in amusement at that. “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “This won’t take long.”

“I just want to get there before dark. Wherever _there_ is, I mean.” Skypaw continued scanning their surroundings, as much taking in the beauty as he was watching for trouble.

“The old lake camp is in a beautiful part of our territory,” she commented, eager to describe it. “I travelled there _many_ times as a kit and as an apprentice.”

Skypaw listened with interest to her enthusiasm. He thought about the seriousness with which she performed her duties, comparing it to her current kit-like enthusiasm. He wondered at it for a long, long time. Two sides of the she-cat he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments down below!


	17. Feelings and Denials

The water-monsters roared over the lake, white waves rising in their trail. Every so often, a wave struck the bridge, and a thin spray misted over the side. Skypaw, Bluestripe, and Berryheart hurried through the cool mist, eyes half closed.

They spotted a ForestClan elder sitting just ahead at the edge of the bridge. He waved his tail at them as they approached. “Still not much for water are you, Berryheart,” he meowed loudly, against the noise of the water-monsters. “Forgot about the Greenleaf Twolegplace on the other side, didn’t you?”

Berryheart purred wearily at him. “It’s good to see you again, Padsplash,” she replied. “And yes, I did forget.”

Padsplash purred with unhidden amusement. “Well, shall we head up to camp?” He turned and started off without waiting for a response from any of them.

The trio glanced at each other, then hurried after him. He led them toward a stream with stepping stones that stretched across it. With startling agility, he bounded from one damp stone to the next, hopped onto an outstretched tree root and darted across it to the other side. The others followed his path. Skypaw’s mind went back to his younger moons, in Great-Sand-Place, racing along the sand dunes, barely avoiding disaster. 

At one point, Bluestripe slipped on one of the damp stones. Skypaw almost reached into the Force to secure his friend, but stopped himself when Bluestripe caught his balance and continued on.

“That was … fun,” Bluestripe commented sarcastically, much to the others’ amusement.

“If it isn’t, then what’s the point?” the gruff-sounding elder replied with a mrrow of laughter.

At last they reached the camp. It was small, set within a cavern with a few small trees just inside the entrance. The elder led them just inside to a tree that had fallen sideways. Looking up, they could see a crevice in the stone above.

Bluestripe started up the trunk immediately. Berryheart touched her nose to the side of Padsplash’s face. “Thank you!”

The she-cat turned to follow her Clanmate up the trunk with Skypaw close behind.

“I’ll bring some more fresh-kill and nesting material up for you,” he offered, and Berryheart looked back and purred. “You go and see what you can see – don’t want to be wasting your time on the little things!”

“Wasting time,” Berryheart echoed. There was an unmistakable wistfulness in her voice.

The young pair clambered up the tree, past moss and hanging vines. They spotted Bluestripe dozing in one of the nests. They left him to sleep and padded onto a ledge overlooking a large patch of flowers, and beyond that, the shimmering lake and the mountains rising behind it.

Berryheart lounged on a patch of soft moss and stared out at the wonderous view.

“You can see the mountains in the water,” Skypaw remarked, eyes wide with amazement. The water-monsters had stopped for a time so the water was still, the light just right, so that the mountains in the lake seemed almost perfect duplicates.

“Of course,” she agreed without moving.

He gazed at her until she turned to look back at him.

“It seems an obvious thing to you,” he mewed, “but where I grew up, there weren’t any lakes. Whenever I see this much water, every detail of it …”

“Amazes you?”

“And pleases me,” he mewed with a warm purr.

Berryheart turned back to the lake. “I guess it’s hard to hold on to appreciation for some things,” she admitted. “But after all these moons, I still see the beauty of the mountains reflected in the water. I could stare at them all day, every day.”

Skypaw moved to crouch on the moss next to her, leaning forward to follow her gaze. He was close enough to breathe in Berryheart’s sweet scent and feel the warmth of her fur.

“Before I was apprenticed, we used to come here as a family,” she mewed. She pointed toward the far shore with her tail. “See the meadow there? We used to swim to that shore every sunrise. I love the water.”

“I do, too. I guess it comes from growing up in a desert.” He caught himself staring at her, entranced by her beauty and her joy, and hurriedly looked away. Thankfully Berryheart continued to look out over the water, choosing not to indicate whether or not she could sense his stare.

“We used to lie on the sand under the warm sun … and try to guess which birds were singing.”

“I don’t like sand very much,” Skypaw admitted, looking at his paws. “It’s coarse and rough and irritating. And it gets everywhere. Your pelt, your den, …”

Berryheart turned to look at him.

“Not here,” Skypaw hastily reassured. “It’s like that in Great-Sand-Place – everything is like that in Great-Sand-Place. But here, everything is … softer. Better, I mean.” He ducked his head in embarrassment, wishing for a single heartbeat that the ledge would give way under his paws.

He jumped a bit when Berryheart moved one of her paws directly next to one of his. He glanced hesitantly in her direction. She seemed a bit tentative, a bit scared, but she didn’t pull away.

“There’s a ruined Twoleg den over there,” she mewed. Her warm brown eyes seemed to be looking far away. “An abandoned barn, too. One of the elders decided to live there. He told the best stories.”

Skypaw summoned enough courage to shift a little closer, caught up in her memories. “He sounds wonderful,” he mewed.

“He made stories up sometimes. Once he told us that the reflections in the lake _were_ real because they _looked_ so real. I believed it for a couple of moons.”

Skypaw looked back at the lake thoughtfully. “I remember stories like that from loners travelling through our settlement. Sometimes, when you _believe_ something to be real, it _becomes_ real to you.”

“I used to think if you looked too deeply into your own reflection, you would lose yourself,” she mewed, her voice barely audible.

“I think …” He turned as he responded, misjudging how close they actually were. Their noses nearly touched and they both froze. Then, without consciously considering it, they closed the gap, their eyes slid shut, their tails twined together, and Skypaw began to feel as if he were floating …

But then Berryheart jumped back, suddenly, as if waking from a dream. “No, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Skypaw hunched low, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mewed. “I don’t know why I did that.”

It was several heartbeats before he risked looking back at her, eyes wide with apology.

But Berryheart wouldn’t look back, instead crouching a rabbit-length away with her tail wrapped tightly about her paws and her eyes fixed on the water.

Lush grasses sprinkled with flowers of all colors graced the hilly meadow. Beyond its borders, shining waterfalls spilled into the lake, and from this spot, various streams and rivers could be seen flowing out from this lake around the distant hills, all the way to the horizon.

Dandelion seeds floated by on the warm breeze, and puffy clouds drifted across the shining blue sky above. It was a place full of life and full of love, full of warmth and full of light.

To Skypaw, it was a place perfectly reflective of Berryheart.

It had been a little more than a half moon since their arrival at the old lake camp. Since the conversation, and the unexpected embrace, on the ledge. He had been concerned that what had happened would form an uncrossable border between himself and Berryheart. Much to his relief, it hadn’t. In fact, she seemed content to ignore it, and he did the same out of respect. But he knew that they’d have to face it at some time and knew that she knew it, too.

A herd of benevolent creatures called sheep grazed contentedly nearby, seemingly oblivious to the cats. They were curious-looking creatures, with huge, fluffy bodies. Insects buzzed about in the air, too busy with the flowers to take any time to bother either Skypaw or Berryheart.

Berryheart lounged on a warm stone, absently batting at flowers directly underneath her. Every so often, she glanced over at Skypaw, but only briefly, almost afraid to let him notice. She loved the way he was reacting to this place, to all of Green Trees, his simple joys forcing her to see things as she had when she was younger, before her duties had pushed her to a place of responsibility. It surprised her that a LightClan apprentice would be so …

She couldn’t think of the description. _Carefree? Joyous? Spirited?_ Some combination of all three?

“I don’t think the Tribe of Gathering is doing its duty well,” Skypaw mewed, matter-of-factly, forcing Berryheart to focus again on their conversation.

“Really?” she replied sarcastically. “Well, how would you want it to do its duty?”

Skypaw sat up, suddenly intense. “The cats within it have to sit down and actually discuss the problem, agree what’s in the best interest of every cat to be affected, and then do it,” he meowed, as if it was perfectly simple and logical.

“Which is exactly what we do,” came Berryheart’s unhesitating reply.

Skypaw looked at her doubtfully.

“The trouble is that different cats, especially ones from different Tribes and Clans, don’t always agree,” she explained. “In fact, they hardly ever do.”

“Or it’s because many take up mediator duties for selfish reasons.”

“You really don’t like mediators, do you?” Berryheart asked, a bit of anger creeping in despite the warm wind and idyllic place.

“I like two or three,” Skypaw replied. “But I’m not really sure about one of them.”

Berryheart tried to hide her confusion. What did he mean? She stared at him, and he returned the severe look – but he couldn’t hold it, and let out a mrrow of laughter.

“You’re making fun of me!”

“Oh no,” Skypaw meowed, backing away until he fell off the stone into the soft grass. “I’d be much too frightened to tease a mediator.”

“You’re so bad!” She reached out with a claw, picked up a clump of sheep wool, and threw it at him. It stuck to his head.

“You’re always so serious,” Skypaw scolded, and he reached up to remove the clump.

“I’m so serious?” Her incredulity was feigned, because Berryheart agreed with the assessment to a great extent. For all her life, she had watched other cats like Sunbranch go off and follow their hearts, while she had followed the path of duty. She had known great triumph and great joy, to be sure, but all of it had been wrapped up in the duties of ForestClan’s leader and now in those of ForestClan’s mediator. Maybe she just wanted to step away from it all and dive into the sparkling water for no better reason than to feel its cool comfort, for no better reason than to enjoy life.

Skypaw had a difficult time getting the clump of wool off his head, twisting wildly with one or both forepaws in the air, toppling over as he finally got it off.

Berryheart fell to her side, mrrowing with uncontrollable laughter. Caught up in the whirlwind of the moment, Skypaw sprang to his paws and ran off to the side, cutting in front of a sheep and frightening it with his sheer jubilance.

The normally passive grazers gave a snort and took up the chase, with Skypaw running in circles and then off over the hill.

Berryheart sat up and considered this moment, this day, and her companion. What was happening here? She couldn’t dismiss the pangs of guilt that she was out here playing without purpose, while others continued to carry on the fight against the Army Creation Deal, or while Sunleap was in search of those who would see her dead.

She should be out there, somewhere, doing something …

Her thoughts fell away with another loud mrrow of incredulous laughter as Skypaw and the sheep came back once more, this time with the LightClan tom on top of the creature, struggling to balance and hold on. What made it all the more ridiculous was that Skypaw was facing the sheep’s tail!

“Skypaw!” she cried in amazement. A bit of trepidation crept into her voice as she repeated the call, for the sheep had broken into a run, and Skypaw was trying to stand up on its back.

He almost made it, but then the lumbering creature bucked and he flew away, tumbling to the ground.

Berryheart mrrowed with laughter, nearly falling off the stone.

But Skypaw lay very still.

She stopped and stared at him, suddenly frightened. She scrambled off the stone, thinking the very sky had just crashed down around her, and rushed to his side. “Skypaw! Skypaw! Are you all right?”

Gently, Berryheart nudged him. He seemed serene and still.

And then his ear twitched and he mrrowed with laughter.

“Oh!” Berryheart cried, and she swiped at his ears. He tangled their paws together and pulled her over, and she willingly went with the movement, wrestling with playful fury.

Skypaw finally managed to pin her, and Berryheart stopped struggling, suddenly aware of the closeness. She looked into his eyes and felt the warm weight on top of her.

Skypaw dropped his head and scrambled off of her in embarrassment, but he looked at her again as if he couldn’t help himself.

All self-consciousness was gone now from Berryheart. She looked deep into Skypaw’s blue eyes, finally and silently admitting the truth. She rose and followed him to the sheep, which was grazing contentedly once more.

Skypaw leapt onto its back and helped Berryheart to do the same, and they went off across the meadow, with Berryheart settled beside him, her shoulder pressed against his, a swirl of emotions and questions spinning about in her mind.

Berryheart alerted to the sound of an approaching cat. She knew who it was, and knew she was safe – from everything but her own feelings.

The time spent in the meadow repeated in her thoughts, particularly the ride on the sheep. During that ride, Berryheart had not hidden behind denial, or behind anything else. Perched beside Skypaw, leaning partially against him, she had felt safe and secure, perfectly content and …

She had to take a deep breath to keep herself from trembling as she went to the tree that led to their nests.

She stopped a tail-length away as he leapt the last distance up the tree. From where Berryheart stood, she could see nothing but the tall and lean silhouette, lit from behind by the setting sun outside the cavern.

Skypaw shifted a little, blocking the glow enough so that Berryheart could see the twinkle in his eyes. He began to move, but she held her ground. It wasn’t a conscious decision; she was simply entranced, for it seemed to her as if the sun was setting behind Skypaw’s shoulders and not behind the horizon, as if he was big enough to dismiss the day. Orange flames danced about his silhouette, dulling the distinction between Skypaw and eternity.

Berryheart had to consciously remember to breathe. She stepped to one side and Skypaw slipped past her, apparently oblivious to the wondrous moment she had just experienced. Embarrassed, she trailed after him out to the ledge. 

As they settled down with a moorhen each, Berryheart forced herself to ask about Bluestripe’s whereabouts.

“Oh, he’s visiting with Redstripe and Waspcloud,” was Skypaw’s reply.

She nearly missed the response. She was caught up in just watching the sun shimmer off of Skypaw’s fur.

Soon enough, with bellies now full, the conversation turned. Berryheart listened attentively as Skypaw recounted some of the adventures he had known over the thirteen moons after they had first parted ways, training and traveling with Sunleap, captivated by his flair for storytelling. She wanted to do more, though. She wanted to discuss what had happened out at the meadow, to try and make sense of it with Skypaw, to share with him the solution as they had shared the forbidden emotions and moments. But she could not begin, and so she allowed him to ramble on, contenting herself with enjoying his tales.

“And when I went to them, we went into …” Skypaw paused, drawing Berryheart’s full attention, a wry look in his eyes. “Aggressive negotiations,” he finished, and then he ran a paw over his whiskers to clean them.

“Aggressive negotiations? What’s that?”

“Uh, well, negotiations with claws,” the LightClan apprentice mewed, tilting his head.

“Oh,” Berryheart replied with an amused purr. 

They moved back to the patch of moss at the edge of the ledge. They sat and watched the sun vanish beyond the horizon as the stars appeared one by one. 

She wanted to him to wrap his tail around hers and touch noses with her, so desperately, and it was precisely that out-of-control sensation that stopped her cold. This was not right – she knew that in her head, despite what her heart might be telling her. They each had bigger responsibilities; she had to deal with the continuing split within the Tribe of Gathering, and _he_ had to continue his training.

Skypaw was silent for a few heartbeats, then he drew a shaky breath. “I’m afraid to tell you, but you deserve the truth: From the moment I met you, all those moons ago, not a single sunrise has passed when I haven’t thought of you.” His voice was low, hesitant but honest. “Now that I’m with you again, I’m torn. And ever since that sunhigh, in this very spot a half-moon ago, it’s only gotten worse.”

Berryheart’s ears slowly lowered and she sat listening in amazement at how honestly he was opening up before her, baring his heart though he knew she might tear it apart. She was honored by the thought, and truly touched. And afraid.

“You were only in my memory before, but now you’re in my very soul,” Skypaw went on, not a bit of falseness in his tone. This was no ploy to gain any favors; this was honest and straightforward, refreshingly so to the she-cat who had spent most of her life interacting with cats who were too willing to please and whose personal desires were never quite what they seemed.

“What do I do?” he asked softly.

Berryheart looked away, overwhelmed, finding security in the distracting glitter of the stars above them. Several heartbeats of silence slipped by uncomfortably.

“Please just tell me what I should do,” Skypaw prompted.

Berryheart turned on him, her own frustrations in her voice. “I can’t!” She dropped her head and struggled to collect herself. “We can’t,” she mewed as calmly as she could. “It’s just not possible.”

“I know.” 

She chanced a look over and felt her heart ache at his distress. She forced herself to continue. “You’re training to become a warrior of LightClan. I’m a ForestClan mediator. We cannot be together … regardless of how we feel about each other.”

His head shot up in surprise at her admission.

Berryheart swallowed hard. “LightClan cats aren’t allowed to take a mate,” she pointed out in an attempt to deflect attention away from her feelings. “You’d be exiled from LightClan. I will not let you give up your future for me.”

“I know,” he repeated without the slightest hesitation, and his comment caught Berryheart a bit by surprise. There was no longer anything of the kit in the tom before her. She felt her control slip a notch.

“I wish I could wish my feelings away. For your sake,” he went on. “But I can’t. No matter what, they’ll always be there.”

“I won’t give in to this,” she mewed with all the conviction she could muster. She knew that she had to be the strong one here, for Skypaw’s sake more than her own. “I have more important things to do than fall in love.”

He turned away, looking wounded, and she flinched. She saw in his eyes that he was trying to sort through a thought.

“We could keep it a secret,” he mewed at length. “But we’d be living a lie.”

“One we couldn’t keep up even if we wanted to. Sunbranch saw it, so did Jewelstep. I couldn’t live like that. Could you, Skypaw?”

When he looked at her, there was defeat in his eyes. “I know. It would destroy us.”

Berryheart looked at Skypaw, then down at her paws. Which would destroy her – destroy _them_ – she had to wonder. The action or the thought?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure this was the most difficult chapter to write. (My beta reader is really tough to impress.) Don't forget to leave comments and kudos down below!


	18. Hidden Tribe and Unsettling Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just realized that I should indicate timeline: Sunleap's information search takes place a day or so after Skypaw, Berryheart, and Bluestripe leave, so this chapter takes place around the same time as the ending of last chapter.   
> Sorry for the potential confusion!

As soon as they passed another trio of huge vine-covered trees, Sunleap saw the “missing” camp, exactly where the hunting marks had indicated it to be.

“There it is, Redspot, right where it should be,” he mewed to his ForestClan companion. “Our missing Tribe camp.”

“Finally,” she grumbled, trying unsuccessfully to clean the dampness and mud from her fur.

“The image _was_ altered.”

The she-cat looked over at him. “Who _would_ have altered that?”

“I have no idea who might have done it,” Sunleap replied. “Maybe we’ll find some answers there.”

He led the way toward the camp, a circle of ferns, tree roots, and brambles in front of a large cave. As they neared, Sunleap saw the large river below the ridge the camp was located on. The water moved so quickly that it appeared white. They spotted the camp-guards a heartbeat before the camp-guards spotted them. When Sunleap introduced himself and his companion, the guards became quite interested. One rushed inside, then returned quickly and beckoned to them.

“Well, here we go, Redspot,” Sunleap mewed under his breath. “Time to find some answers.”

She sniffed, but followed close behind as they entered the camp. It started raining and they noted the Tribe cats made for whatever shelter was nearest to them. The water droplets glinted in the sunlight like crystals, sliding along the huge leaves and stones. Once inside the cave, the pair gazed about in amazement. Large stones towered over them as they passed through the entrance. Holes in the top of the cave let in sunlight that shone on small crystals within the stone. Sunleap chanced a closer look at one of the crystals and realized that they were Starstones, much smaller than he was used to seeing.

And some appeared to have been broken.

“There’s so much to see, Sunleap,” Redspot lamented. The LightClan warrior silently agreed. He had visited many places in his life, but viewing a place as strange and beautiful as Wet Trees and the Tribe of White Waters camp only reminded him that there was so much more to see, too many for any one cat to visit even if he did nothing else for the entirety of his life.

At last the guard indicated for Redspot to wait near a smaller hole in the side of the cave with a couple of other guards. He went in quickly. After checking that Redspot would be alright, Sunleap moved to follow. After several heartbeats they emerged on the other side of the tunnel where the guard left him and went back.

“Warrior of LightClan, so good to see you,” came a melodic voice.

Sunleap turned to face the newcomer, and then he paused, caught by the image of the Tribe cat.

“I am Tall Wing,” she introduced herself, coming closer.

She was taller than Sunleap, lithe and graceful, but there was nothing weak about her. Thin, yes, but muscular with a powerful presence. Her eyes, large and brown, were sparkling clear, like those of an inquisitive kit. She lifted one of her slender white paws toward him.

“Our leader expects you.”

This distracted Sunleap from his bemused observation of her strange beauty. “I’m expected?” Sunleap asked, doing little to hide his incredulity. How in Silverpelt could these cats possibly have been expecting him?

“Of course,” Tall Wing replied. “Long Sun is anxious to see you. After all these moons, we were beginning to think you weren’t coming. Now please, this way.”

Sunleap dipped his head and tried to appear unconcerned, hiding the multitude of questions buzzing about in his thoughts. _After all these moons? They were thinking that I wasn’t coming?_

The chamber was nearly as lit as the main chamber, but as his eyes adjusted, Sunleap found it strangely comfortable. They passed by many other Tribe cats, busy with their own duties. He was struck by how organized this Tribe was. He kept his questions to himself, though, as anxious to see their leader, Long Sun, as Tall Wing seemed to be in getting there, judging from the swift pace.

The she-cat stopped at one small hole and gestured for Sunleap to enter first.

Another Tribe cat, a slightly taller tom, greeted them. He looked down at Sunleap, blinked his large eyes, and purred warmly. He flicked his tail to dismiss the den-guard he had been conversing with.

“May I present Long Sun, leader of the Tribe of White Waters,” Tall Wing mewed, then to Long Sun, she added, “This is the warrior from LightClan –”

“Sunleap,” the LightClan tom finished, dipping his head deferentially.

The Tribe leader indicated the pile of moss and lichen next to him, then lounged back on another, but Sunleap remained standing, soaking in the scene before him.

“I trust you and your companion are going to enjoy your stay,” the Tribe leader mewed. “We are most happy you have arrived in the best season.”

“You make us feel most welcome.” Sunleap didn’t comment on Redspot being asked to wait outside of what was obviously the main camp.

“Please …” Long Sun indicated the pile once more. When Sunleap finally sat down, the Tribe tom continued. “And now to duty. You will be delighted to hear we are on time. We have five hundred warriors ready, with another five thousand well on the way.”

Sunleap’s tongue suddenly seemed heavy in his mouth, but he fought past the stutter and tucked his questions away, and improvised, “That is good news.”

“We thought you would be pleased.”

“Of course.”

“Please tell your Clanmate Farlight that we have every confidence his request will be met, on time and in full. He is well, I hope.”

“I’m sorry,” the overwhelmed LightClan warrior replied. “Which Clanmate?”

“Farlight. He is still on the Council, is he not?”

The name, known to Sunleap as that of a former LightClan sage, elicited yet another surge of questions, but again, he put them out of mind and focused on keeping Long Sun talking and giving out potentially valuable information. “I’m afraid to say that Farlight was killed almost sixteen moons ago.”

Long Sun blinked his large eyes again. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. But I’m sure he would have been proud of the army we’ve built for him.”

“The army?” Sunleap asked before he could even think the direction through.

“The army of rogue warriors. And I must say, one of the finest we’ve ever created.”

Sunleap didn’t know how far he could press this. If it was indeed Farlight who had requested an army of rogues, then why hadn’t Lightstar or any of the others uttered anything about it? Farlight had been a powerful LightClan sage before his untimely death, but would he have acted alone on an issue as important as this? The LightClan warrior studied his two companions, even reaching into the Force to gain a feeling about them. Everything seemed straightforward here, and open, and so he followed his instincts and kept the conversation rolling along. “Tell me, Long Sun, when Farlight first contacted you about the army, did he say who it was for?”

“Of course he did,” the Tribe leader offered unsuspiciously. “The army is for the Tribe of Gathering.”

Sunleap almost blurted out, _The Tribe of Gathering!_ But his discipline allowed him to keep his surprise well buried, along with the tumult in his thoughts, a mounting storm as furious as the one now raging outside. What by the Force was going on here? An army of rogues for the Tribe of Gathering? Requested by a LightClan sage? Did the cats of the Great Gathering know of this? Did Lightstar, or Violetlight?

“You understand the responsibility you incur in creating such an army for the Tribe of Gathering?” he asked, trying to cover his confusion. “We expect, and must have, the very best.”

“Of course, Sunleap,” Long Sun mewed, seeming supremely confident. “You must be anxious to inspect the cats for yourself.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Sunleap answered. Taking Long Sun’s cue, he rose and followed the Tribe cats out of the chamber.

Holes in the walls on either side, each leading to a different chamber, stretched along the immense tunnel to the end of Sunleap’s vision. Each chamber had five queens, each with a litter of at least four or five kits, and various Tribe cats going in and out to tend to them.

“The nursery,” the LightClan tom stated more than asked.

“The first step, obviously,” Long Sun replied.

“Very impressive.”

“I hoped you would be pleased, Sunleap of LightClan,” the Tribe leader mewed. “You’ll find that the warriors our queens kit are the best anywhere. Our training methods have been perfected over many seasons.”

“How many queens are there?” Sunleap asked. “In here, I mean.”

“We have several nurseries throughout the cave. This, of course, is the most crucial step, though with our resources, we expect the vast majority of kits to survive. Every so often, a litter will be born with … issues, but we expect the number of litters born to be steady, and with our advanced training methods, these before you will be ready for battle at eight moons of age.”

 _Five hundred warriors are ready, with another five thousand well on the way._ Long Sun’s previous boast echoed ominously in Sunleap’s thoughts. Nurseries always full of queens and kits, producing a steady stream of kits raised to be trained and battle-hardened warriors. The implications were staggering.

Sunleap stared at the nearest litter, the kits squirming at their mother’s belly. Each kit had a stone fragment attached to its left shoulder with a similar silver-vine to the ones wrapped around his own Force-Crystal. In a few short moons, these kits would be warriors, killing and, likely, soon enough killed.

He shuddered and looked to his Tribe of White Waters guide.

“Come,” Long Sun bade him, padding along the tunnel.

Next on the tour was a training pit, with kits sitting in neat, orderly rows. They all looked to be about four moons of age. All with a stone fragment partially buried in their left shoulders with a silver-vine holding it in place, all with the same intense and determined look in their eyes. They continued their training without paying any more heed to the visitors than a quick glance.

 _Disciplined,_ Sunleap thought. _Much more so than any normal apprentices._

Another thought grabbed him. “What are those stone shards for?”

“Those are shards from Starstones. Very essential,” the Tribe leader replied. “They are for communication with and to ensure obedience to their superiors. The group you will soon see in the main training pit were kitted fourteen moons ago, two moons after Farlight gave the request, and they’re already fully trained and quite ready for duty.”

“And these will be ready in four moons?” the LightClan tom reasoned, and Long Sun dipped his head.

“Would you care to inspect the final result now?” the Tribe leader asked, and Sunleap could hear the excitement in his voice. Clearly he was proud of this accomplishment. “I would like your approval before you take delivery.”

The callousness of it all struck Sunleap profoundly. _Final result._ These were other cats they were talking about. Living, breathing, and thinking. To purposefully birth kits for such a singular purpose, under such control, assaulted his sense of right and wrong, and the fact that a LightClan sage had begun all of this was almost too much to digest.

The tour took him through another chamber, this one for eating, where many grown cats sat and ate in neat rows. Only the barest hint of a stone shard was visible on each cat’s left shoulder.

“You’ll find that they are totally obedient,” Long Sun was telling him, seemingly oblivious to the LightClan warrior’s discomfort. “The power in the embedded Starstone shards ensure that they are less independent than their sire, of course.”

“Who was the sire?”

“A rogue named Slate,” Long Sun offered without any hesitation. “We felt that a LightClan tom would be the perfect choice, but Farlight indicated the impossibility and selected Slate himself.”

The notion that a LightClan tom might have been used nearly caused Sunleap to stumble. What LightClan cat would agree to such a mouse-brained thing as fathering kits? Especially rogues?

“Where is this rogue now?” he asked.

“He lives here,” Long Sun replied. “But he’s free to come and go as he pleases.” He kept walking down the tunnel, leading Sunleap into a nesting chamber.

The LightClan warrior watched in amazement as rogue cats climbed into the various nests and settled in place, closing their eyes and going to sleep.

“Very disciplined,” he remarked.

“That is the idea,” Long Sun replied. “Disciplined, and yet with the ability to think creatively. It is a mighty combination.”

 _And you wanted a LightClan tom as their sire?_ Sunleap thought, but he did not utter it aloud. He took a deep breath, wondering how Farlight, how any LightClan cat, could have so willingly and unilaterally crossed the line to create _any_ army fathered by the same tom. Sunleap realized that he had to suppress his need for a direct answer to that right now, and simply listen and observe, gather as much information as he could so that he and the LightClan Council might sort it out.

“So Slate willingly remains here in your territory?”

“The choice is his alone. He agreed with only one demand – a single un-sharded kit by a she-cat of our Tribe for himself. Curious, isn’t it?”

“Un-sharded?”

“No embedded Starstone shard,” the Tribe leader explained. “This request was fulfilled by Tall Wing seven moons ago.”

“I would very much like to meet this Slate,” Sunleap mewed, as much to himself as to Long Sun. He was intrigued. Who was this tom selected by Farlight as the perfect father for a rogue army?

Long Sun looked to Tall Wing, who dipped her head and mewed, “I would be most happy to arrange it for you.”

She left them, then, as the tour continued, with Long Sun taking Sunleap along the areas that showed him pretty much the entire routine of the rogues at every different age. The culmination came later on, when Tall Wing rejoined the pair on a ledge, sheltered from the heavy rain and overlooking a huge training pit. Below them, hundreds of rogue warriors, shards fully embedded in their left shoulders, moved and trained with all the precision of seasoned Clan warriors. Entire patrols, each made up of five to ten cats, moved as one.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?” Long Sun mewed.

Sunleap looked up at the Tribe cat, to see his eyes glowing with pride as he looked out upon his creation. There were no ethical dilemmas as far as Long Sun was concerned, Sunleap knew immediately. Perhaps that was why the Tribe of White Waters were so good at what they did: their consciences never got in the way.

Long Sun looked down at him, purring loudly, prompting a response, and Sunleap suffered a silent dip of his head.

Yes, they were magnificent, and the LightClan tom could only imagine the brutal efficiency this group would show in battle, in the task for which they were kitted.

Once again, a shudder coursed along Sunleap’s spine. For the first time, he appreciated Berryheart’s crusade to stop the creation of an army for the Tribe of Gathering, and the inevitable consequence: war!

A call from Tall Wing brought forth the sound of movement inside the den. A young kit, who appeared to Sunleap to be about seven moons old, padded into view.

The half-Tribe kit that Slate had demanded, only this one had _no_ Starstone shard embedded in his shoulder.

“Blue,” Tall Wing mewed with great familiarity, “is your father home?”

Blue stood staring at the LightClan visitor for a long moment. “Yep.”

“May we see him?”

“Sure,” Blue answered. He stepped back, but his eyes never left Sunleap as the LightClan warrior and Tall Wing moved through the entrance.

“Dad!” Blue yowled. “Tall Wing’s here!”

Slate padded in from a second chamber. Sunleap recognized various traits passed down to the rogue’s many kits from the way he held himself to the lean, muscular body. There were scars here and there visible along his grey pelt.

As Sunleap glanced up, he recognized the clear suspicion with which Slate was eying him. The tom was on edge here, dangerously so, Sunleap understood.

“Welcome back, Slate,” Tall Wing remarked. “Was your journey productive?”

Sunleap studied the rogue intensely. Back from where? But Slate was seasoned, and he revealed not the slightest twitch or wince.

“Fairly,” the grey tom casually offered. He continued to size up Sunleap as he conversed, his eyes narrowing in an almost open threat.

“This is Sunleap of LightClan,” Tall Wing mewed, her tone lighter, obviously an attempt to relieve some of the palpable tension. “He’s come to check on our progress.”

“That right?” If Slate cared, his tone didn’t show it.

“Your rogue kits are very impressive,” Sunleap mewed. “You must be very proud.”

“I’m just a simple cat trying to make my way.”

“Aren’t we all?” Sunleap finally broke eye contact with Slate, glancing about the den, looking for clues. He regarded the rogue again, and felt that his movement was familiar … 

“Ever make your way as far as the Gathering Place?” he asked, rather bluntly.

“Once or twice.”

“Recently?”

Again the rogue’s gaze became obviously suspicious. “Possibly …”

“Then you must know Farlight,” Sunleap remarked, not out of any logical follow-up reasoning, but simply to see the other tom’s reaction.

There was none. Slate’s gaze slid briefly to the kit. “Blue, why don’t go to your nest while we finish talking?”

Not until Blue vanished into the other chamber did Slate move to the side, and then it seemed to Sunleap as if the tom was stalking him. “Who?” Slate asked.

“Farlight. Isn’t he the one who selected you for this task?”

“Never heard of him,” Slate replied, and if there was a lie, Sunleap could not detect it.

“Really?”

“I was approached by a cat called Darkbird while traveling,” Slate explained, and again it seemed to Sunleap as if he was being truthful.

“Curious …” Sunleap muttered. He glanced down, surprised and at a loss as to what all of this might mean.

“Do you like your army?” Slate asked him.

“I look forward to seeing them in action,” the LightClan warrior replied.

Slate continued to stare at him, to try to see the intent behind his response, Sunleap knew. And then, as if it hardly mattered, the rogue purred. “They’ll do their duty well. I’ll guarantee that.”

“Like their sire?”

Slate purred louder.

“Thank for your time, Slate,” Sunleap mewed against the uncompromising stare. Then he turned to Tall Wing and started for the entrance.

“Always a pleasure to meet a LightClan cat,” came the reply. It was heavy with double meaning, almost like a hidden threat.

But Sunleap wasn’t about to call him on it. Slate was clearly a dangerous cat, clever and cunning, and likely better than most in a fight. Before he pushed things any further, Sunleap realized that he should report all that he had learned thus far back to the Council. This discovery of an army of rogues was nothing short of amazing, and more than a little unsettling, and none of it made much sense.

And _was_ Slate the mysterious cat Sunleap had seen in the Gathering Place that night when Berryheart had been attacked?

Sunleap’s instinct told him that Slate was, but how did that jibe with the tom also being the sire for a rogue army supposedly requested by a former LightClan sage?

With Tall Wing beside him, the LightClan warrior left the den.

“The she-cat in the entrance-chamber was with him, wasn’t she, Dad?” Blue asked. “He’s a LightClan cat, so he can travel with cats outside his Clan.”

Slate dipped his head at his son absently.

“I knew it!” Blue squeaked, but then Slate abruptly stole the moment.

Slate fixed Blue with a no-nonsense stare that the young tom had learned well not to ignore.

“What is it, Dad?”

“Prepare to move. We’re leaving. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, one last thing: Slate's ability to get from one place to another more quickly than usual will be explained in a later chapter.
> 
> Please don't forget to leave a comment down below. It's really important for me to know how I'm doing...


	19. Nightmares and Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who have been keeping with me in this: Thank you so very much! I really appreciate your patience with me.

Berryheart awoke suddenly, her senses immediately tuning in to her surroundings. Something was wrong, she knew instinctively, and she jumped up, scrambling about out of fear that another of those many-legged creatures was upon her.

But the chamber was quiet, save for Bluestripe’s snoring, with nothing out of place.

Something had awakened her, but not something in here.

“No!” came a cry from outside the chamber, where Skypaw was sleeping. “No! Mom! No, don’t!”

Berryheart slipped out of her nest and ran to the chamber entrance, not even caring or noticing the noise she was likely making. At the entrance, she paused and listened. Hearing whimpers from outside, followed by more jumbled cries, she realized that there was no immediate danger, that this was another of Skypaw’s nightmares, like the one that had gripped him on the way to Green Trees. She peered out and looked over at him.

He was thrashing about in his nest, wailing “Mom!” repeatedly. Unsure, Berryheart started to move toward him.

But then Skypaw calmed and rolled back over, the dream, the vision, apparently past.

Then Berryheart did become aware of what she was doing. She moved back into the chamber, then waited for a long while. When she heard no further wailing or tossing, she went back to her nest.

She lay awake in the dark for a long, long while, thinking of Skypaw, thinking that she wanted to be there beside him, curled around him, helping him through his troubled dreams. She tried to dismiss the notion – they had already covered this dangerous ground and had come to an understanding of what must be. And that agreement did not include her climbing into Skypaw’s nest.

The following sunrise, she found him on the ledge overlooking the lake and the rising sun. He was standing by the edge, so deep in thought that he did not notice her approach.

She moved up slowly, not wanting to disturb him, for as she neared, she realized that he was doing more than thinking here, that he was actually deep in meditation. Recognizing this as a private time for Skypaw, she turned and started away, as quietly as she could.

“Don’t go,” Skypaw mewed to her.

“I don’t want to disturb you,” she told him, surprised.

“Your presence is soothing.”

Berryheart considered this for a bit, taking pleasure in hearing it, then scolding herself for taking that pleasure. But still, as she stood there looking upon him, his form still and serene, she couldn’t deny the attraction. He seemed to her like a young hero, a budding LightClan warrior – and she had no doubt that he would be among the greatest that great Clan had ever known. And at the same time, he seemed to her to be the same little kit she had known during the fight with FieldClan, inquisitive and impetuous, aggravating and charming all at once.

“You had a nightmare again last night,” she mewed quietly, when Skypaw at last opened his blue eyes.

He blinked and looked over at her questioningly.

“I heard you,” Berryheart was quick to explain.

Skypaw regarded her silently. There was no compromise in her eyes.

“I saw my mother,” he admitted, lowering his gaze. “I saw her as clearly as I see you now. She is suffering, Berryheart. They’re killing her! She is in pain!”

“Who?” Berryheart asked, moving toward him, standing immediately in front of him. When she looked at him more closely, she noted a determination so solid that it took her by surprise.

“I know I’m disobeying my orders to protect you,” Skypaw tried to explain. “I know I will be punished and possibly exiled from LightClan, but I have to go.”

“Go?”

“I have to help her! I’m sorry, Berryheart,” he mewed. She saw from his expression that he meant it, that leaving her was the last thing he ever wanted to do. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Of course you don’t. Not if your mother is in trouble.”

Skypaw appreciatively dipped his head.

“I’ll go with you,” she decided.

Skypaw’s eyes widened. He started to reply, ready to argue, but Berryheart’s purr silenced his voice.

“That way, you can continue to protect me,” she reasoned. Somehow she made it sound perfectly logical. “And you won’t be disobeying orders.”

“I don’t think this is what the Council had in mind. I fear that I’m walking into danger, and to take you with me –”

“Walking into danger,” Berryheart echoed, and she mrrowed with laughter. “A place I’ve never been before.”

Skypaw stared at her, hardly believing what he was hearing. He couldn’t resist, though, and he began to purr loudly. For some reason he did not quite understand, the LightClan apprentice found a good measure of justification in his abandoning the exact phrasing of his orders now that Berryheart was in on, and agreeing with, the plan.

Neither Berryheart nor Skypaw nor Bluestripe could miss the stark contrast when they scaled a ridge and saw the vast sands of the Great-Sand-Place before them. How different it was from Green Trees, a place of green grasses and deep blue water. The Great-Sand-Place was as barren as Green Trees was alive.

“Can’t we spend more than a half-moon in one place?” Bluestripe grumbled as they started for the familiar settlement ahead.

Berryheart and Skypaw exchanged looks of amusement as Bluestripe continued complaining. 

“Well, this is as lovely as I remember it,” Berryheart commented sarcastically as they passed into the dusty settlement.

Skypaw dipped his head. How different things were now than those moons before when Berryheart had been forced to come to the Great-Sand-Place with Sunpaw and Moonlight in order to find herbs. He tried to manage a purr, but the edge of his nervousness kept it from appearing. Too many disturbing thoughts assaulted him. Was his mother alright? Was his dream a premonition of what was to come, or vision of something that had already happened? And what about his brother? Was he in trouble, too?

He hurried through the settlement, searching for the familiar trading den.

“Do you think he was involved?” Berryheart asked Skypaw.

“Dare?”

“Yes, that was his name, right? Your former master?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “At the very least, I hope not.” He wasn’t sure how he would feel about seeing the loner, even if Dare had nothing to do with bringing any harm to Stalk. Dare had treated him better than most treated their serf-cats, and hadn’t battered him too often, but still, it hung in Skypaw’s thoughts that Dare had not let Stalk go with him when Moonlight had traded for his freedom.

“Here,” Bluestripe called back to the others. “This is it, right?”

Skypaw looked up to find his friend standing in front of a den that was all too familiar to him. There, sitting just outside the den entrance, fiddling with a rounded Twoleg-thing that was in pieces was a blue-grey tom with a long tail. Skypaw recognized him immediately.

He paused for so long in just staring at Dare that Berryheart padded a couple of steps past him and turned to get his attention.

“Come on,” she told him.

“Not that one, that one!” Dare yowled at a group of serf-cats who were scrambling all about, trying to help.

Skypaw thought he vaguely recognized them. He shook out pelt as he put them out of his mind and looked back to Dare, then glanced at Berryheart and Bluestripe once or twice as they neared.

“Excuse me, Dare,” he greeted.

“What?” came the surprised response.

“I said, excuse me,” Skypaw reiterated, barely audible above the noise from the serf-cats.

“Go away! You’re all as much use as a dead fox anyway!” Dare yowled at the serf-cats, and they immediately hurried away, glancing curiously at the newcomers as they did.

“What can I do for –” Dare interrupted himself with a pained snarl as he nicked his paw on one of the pieces around him.

“Let me help you with that,” Skypaw offered, pulling the pieces away from Dare, and manipulating them expertly.

Dare watched him for a heartbeat, his eyes growing larger with surprise. “What? I don’t know you…. You look like a LightClan cat. Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”

“He doesn’t know him,” Bluestripe hissed to Berryheart as they tried to hide their amusement at Dare’s last statement.

“I’m looking for a she-cat named Stalk,” Skypaw bluntly stated.

Dare’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Who would be looking for his old serf-cat? The loner’s gaze went from Skypaw to Berryheart, to Bluestripe, then back to Skypaw.

“Sky?” he asked. “Little Sky? Naah!”

Skypaw’s answer came with a deft twist of a paw, and the round Twoleg-thing was back together and making a shrill sound at a tap on the nub in the middle of it. Purring loudly, he pushed it back to Dare.

There weren’t many cats who could put together Twoleg-things.

“You _are_ Sky!” the loner cried. “It _is_ you!” He jumped to his paws and looked the young tom up and down. “You sure sprouted!”

“Hello, Dare.”

“Well now,” the loner meowed. “A LightClan cat! What do you know? Hey, maybe you could help out with some mouse-fodder cats who owe me –”

“My mother –” Skypaw prompted.

“Oh yeah, Stalk. “She’s not mine anymore. I traded her off.”

“Traded her?” Skypaw felt Berryheart touch his shoulder with her tail.

“Moons ago,” Dare explained. “Sorry, Sky, but you know, business is business. Traded her to a loner named Lars. At least I think it was Lars. Believe it or not, I heard he freed her and took her as a mate. Can you beat that?”

Skypaw just blinked, trying hard to digest it all. “Do you know where they are?”

“Long way from here. Someplace over on the other side of Brown Ridge, I think.”

“Could you narrow it down?” Skypaw asked, urgency and grim determination in his voice. “I’d like to know.”

Dare thought about it, eyes narrowing in concentration. “Well like I said, you need to go past Brown Ridge. I think they mentioned living in a barn near a Twoleg-den of some kind. Should take you about two sunrises. Maybe three.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah I’m sure.”

Without another sound, Skypaw whirled about and raced away. His companions turned to follow, kicking up dust as they ran.

Dare stared after them for a long time. “Sky the LightClan cat,” the loner remarked, and he flicked his tail dismissively at the departing cats. “What do you know.”

Skypaw’s mind was focused, not even noticing whenever he nearly ran into another cat in his hurry. They ran past the racing path where he had once raced, but he barely glanced at it as he led the others away from the settlement and toward Brown Ridge. It took a full sunrise to reach it, then they veered left down the steep ridge and onward. They stopped very infrequently, only to rest for a short time before continuing.

As the sun rose a third time since their departure, they spotted the large Twoleg-den Dare had mentioned. They skirted around without the Twolegs noticing, and hurried on and up low bluff.

“There,” Berryheart meowed, spotting a large den that had to be the barn. Skypaw dipped his head grimly as they started down.

“I’m really going to see them again,” he breathed.

Berryheart touched her tail to his shoulder and offered him a comforting purr.

“You don’t know what it’s like, to leave your families like that,” he mewed.

“We leave our families all the time,” Bluestripe pointed out.

“It’s not the same,” Berryheart countered. “Neither of us can imagine what it’s like to be a serf-cat, Skypaw.”

“It’s worse to know that your mother is one and your brother is in hiding because of it.”

The first form that came into full view as they padded toward the barn was that of a slender yellow tom with a nicked ear and new scars along his shoulder. Obviously uncomfortable, he crouched stiffly and examined something on the ground they couldn’t see. Then he got to his paws, seeing their approach.

“Oh, hello,” he greeted. “What can I do for you? I’m –”

“Gold?” Skypaw meowed breathlessly, hardly believing his eyes.

The tom froze. “By StarClan!” he exclaimed, and he scrambled forward to butt heads with an equally excited Skypaw. “Sky! My brother! I knew you would return! I knew you would!”

“Really? Oh, my new name is Skypaw now!”

“Wow! You’re a real Clan cat now!” Gold finally backed away and looked at the ForestClan cats. “And this must be Berryheart, right? And… Bluepaw? Or do you have new names, too?”

“Hello, Gold,” Berryheart mewed.

“She’s still just Berryheart,” Bluestripe added. “But I’m a warrior now. Blue _stripe_.”

“Great StarClan! I’m so happy to see all of you!”

“We came to see Mom,” Skypaw explained, then noticed his brother’s fresh injuries as if for the first time. “What happened to you?”

The yellow tom lowered his head and tail. “I think … I think,” Gold stuttered. “Perhaps we’d better go inside.” He turned toward the barn motioning for the trio to follow.

Skypaw, Berryheart, and Bluestripe exchanged worried glances. Skypaw could not shake the feeling of doom that lingered long after the imagery of his nightmares had faded…

By the time they caught up to Skypaw’s brother, he was padding into the barn, yowling, “Lars! Owen! We have visitors!”

A young she-cat and tom came rushing around a corner almost immediately, but slowed at the sight of the trio.

“I’m Skypaw,” Skypaw mewed at once.

“Skypaw?” the tom echoed, then his eyes grew wide. “Oh, _Sky_!”

The she-cat at his side sat down hard. “Sky the LightClan cat,” she mewed breathlessly.

“You know of me? Gold is my brother and Stalk is my mother.”

“Mine, too,” meowed the tom. “Not my real ones,” he added at Skypaw’s obviously puzzled look, “but as real as I’ve ever known.” He lifted his paw. “Owen. This is my mate, Whitesun.”

Whitesun dipped her head as she stood back up. “Hello.”

Bluestripe, after giving up on Skypaw ever remembering to introduce him and his Clanmate, came forward. “I’m Bluestripe and this is Berryheart.”

“I guess this makes us brothers, too,” Owen mewed, his eyes never leaving the young LightClan cat of whom he had heard so much about. “I had a feeling you might show up.”

“Is my mother here?”

“No, she’s not,” came a gruff voice from behind Owen and Whitesun, from the shadows on the other side of the barn. They all turned to see a heavyset tom limp over to them. One of his hind legs was twisted, heavily scratched, and dragging along the ground, and one of his eyes, missing, and Skypaw knew at once that these were fairly recent wounds, though older than Gold’s. Another look at Owen and Whitesun revealed recent injuries on them, too, though not as serious as Lars or Gold. His heart seemed to leap into his throat.

“Lars,” the tom mewed, moving in close and sitting down heavily. “Stalk is my mate. You should make yourselves comfortable. We have a lot to talk about.”

Skypaw sat as if in a dream, a very horrible dream.

“It was just before sunup,” Lars was telling them, Owen sitting close by while Whitesun left to get some fresh-kill for the guests.

“They came out of nowhere,” Owen added.

“A group of rogues,” Lars explained.

A sinking feeling nearly knocked Skypaw over and he slumped to the ground across from Owen. He had some experience with rogues, but on a very limited basis. But still, that limited experience told him everything he needed to know, and Skypaw didn’t like hearing the name of Stalk uttered in the same statement as _rogues_.

“Your mother had gone out early, like she always did, to hunt the mice that burrow along the territory edge,” Lars explained. “From the tracks and the scent, she was about halfway home when they took her. Rogues are dishonorable, fox-hearted creatures, and they don’t deserve to call themselves cats.”

“We’d seen many signs that they were about,” Owen piped in. “She shouldn’t have gone out!”

“We can’t live huddled in fear!” Gold insisted. “One of us ought to have gone with her!”

“Enough!” Lars scolded them, but he calmed at once and turned back to Skypaw. “All signs were that we’d chased the rogues away. But they were more persistent than we had thought. We’d been going after Stalk together. Now Gold’s the only one who’s still been going out.”

He hissed and shifted his weight off of his damaged leg, and Skypaw felt the older tom’s pain clearly.

“I’d still be out there, too, only … after I lost my eye …” Lars’s voice broke, and it struck Skypaw how much this tom loved Stalk.

“I can’t even hunt anymore,” Lars went on. “My body’s too broken.”

The proud tom drew in a deep breath and forcibly steadied himself, squaring his broad shoulders. “This isn’t the way I wanted to meet you, Skypaw,” he mewed. “This isn’t how your mother and I planned it. I don’t want to give up on her, but she’s been gone for nearly a moon. There’s little hope she’s lasted this long.”

This hit Skypaw like a stinging slap, and he retreated from them, back into himself, back into the Force. He reached out, using his bond with his mother to try to somehow feel her presence in the Force.

Then he shot to his paws.

“Where are you going?” Owen asked.

“To find my mother,” came the grim reply.

“Your mother is dead,” the resigned Lars told him. “Accept it.”

Skypaw glowered at him, then stalked out without responding.

Gold looked to his brother, then back to Lars. “I know she’s alive,” he meowed firmly. “I just _know_ it.”

With a whisk of his tail, he hurried after Skypaw as the rest stared after them in silence.

“I wish he’d have come a bit earlier,” Whitesun lamented.

Berryheart glanced over at her, and at Lars, who was leaning against Owen, both toms comforting each other.

Then, having nothing to offer them, Berryheart turned and rushed out to join Skypaw and Gold, waving at Bluestripe to stay put. By the time she caught up, they were at the edge of the barn territory, arguing.

“But I want to go, too,” Gold was protesting.

“No.” Skypaw’s voice was firm. “I need you to stay here. You’re already injured, and I can’t risk losing you.”

Gold was silent for a heartbeat, then he leaned forward and butted his head against Skypaw’s. “Whatever you find, brother, I know you’ll bring her home.”

They turned to Berryheart, suddenly realizing they weren’t alone.

“You’re going to have to stay here,” Skypaw mewed to her as she hurried to his side. “You’ll be safe with these cats.”

“Skypaw …”

“I know she’s alive,” he mewed, staring out at the dunes.

Berryheart pressed her muzzle into his chin. “Be careful,” she mewed softly.

“I won’t be long,” he promised. He moved away and raced toward the dunes, leaving a cloud of sand and dust behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to leave comments and kudos!


	20. Report and Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the tension begin....

When both of their Force-Crystals began to pulse urgently and they sensed Sunleap’s Force-energy through them, Violetlight and Lightstar knew that whatever the warrior had to tell them was important. Extremely important.

They slipped into Lightstar’s chamber, after Violetlight checked that no other cats were nearby, then they connected to their Force-Crystals.

Sunleap’s voice appeared in their minds. The warrior was obviously on edge, tension clear in his voice.

_“Lightstar, Violetlight, I have successfully made contact with Long Sun, the leader of the Tribe of White Waters.”_

_“Ah, good it is that your Tribe territory you have found,”_ Lightstar stated.

 _“Right where the kits predicted,”_ Sunleap replied. _“This Tribe has queens that bear kits repeatedly – not to grow their own Tribe, but for trading with other cats.”_

The LightClan leader and deputy exchanged uncomfortable looks.

_“They are using a rogue named Slate to sire a very large army.”_

_“An army?”_ Violetlight repeated.

 _“For the Tribe of Gathering,”_ came Sunleap’s startling answer. _“What’s more, I have a strong feeling that this rogue is behind the plot to assassinate Berryheart.”_

_“Do you think these Tribe of White Waters cats are involved in that, as well?”_

_“No, Violetlight, there appears to be no motive.”_

_“Do not assume anything, Sunleap,”_ Lightstar advised. _“Clear, your mind must be if you are to discover the real villain behind this plot.”_

 _“Yes, Lightstar,”_ Sunleap mewed. _“Long Sun has informed me that the first group of rogue warriors are ready for delivery. He also wanted me to remind you that if we require more – and they’ve another five thousand well on the way to being fully-trained – it will take more time for them to be kitted and trained.”_

 _“Five thousand rogue warriors?”_ Violetlight asked in disbelief.

_“Yes, Violetlight. They told me that Farlight requested a rogue army almost sixteen moons ago. I was under the impression he was killed before that. Did the Council ever grant permission for the creation of an army?”_

_“No,”_ Violetlight answered without hesitation, and without even looking to Lightstar for confirmation. _“Whoever made that request did not have permission from the Council.”_

_“Then how? And why?”_

_“The mystery deepens,”_ Violetlight mused. _“And it is one that needs unraveling, for more reasons than the safety of ForestClan’s mediator.”_

 _“The rogue warriors are impressive,”_ Sunleap explained. _“They have been kitted and trained for one purpose alone.”_

 _“Capture this Slate, you must,”_ Lightstar instructed. _“Bring him here. Question him, we will.”_

 _“Yes, Lightstar. I will report back when I have him.”_ Sunleap broke the connection and turned to pass the order along to Redspot.

“An army of rogues,” Violetlight remarked, alone with Lightstar once again, the connection gone. “Why would Farlight –”

“When made, this request was, may provide insight,” Lightstar mewed, and Violetlight dipped his head. If the timing of the request was correct, then Farlight must have made it right before he died.

“If this Slate was involved in trying to kill ForestClan’s mediator, and just happened to be chosen to sire an army of rogues, created for the Tribe of Gathering …” Violetlight stopped and narrowed his eyes. The coincidence was too great for those two items to be simple chance. But how could one tie in with the other? Was it possible that whoever decided to create the rogue army was afraid that Berryheart would be a strong enough voice to prevent that army from being used?

The LightClan deputy ran a paw over his face and looked to Lightstar, who sat with his eyes closed. Probably contemplating the same riddles as he was, Violetlight knew. And equally troubled, if not more so.

“Blind we are, if the development of this army we could not see,” Lightstar remarked.

“I think it is time to inform the Tribe of Gathering that our ability to use the Force has diminished.”

“Only DarkClan knows of our weakness,” Lightstar replied. “If informed the Tribe is, multiply our adversaries will.”

For the two LightClan cats, this surprising development was troubling on several different levels.

Sunleap moved through the wet brush carefully with Redspot on his tail. He knew nothing of Slate’s accomplishment, but he figured they must be considerable, given the selection of the tom as the sire for an army of rogues. Pausing, he closed his eyes and reached out to the Force, searching for hidden enemies. A heartbeat later, he sensed something further along and dropped into a crouch. The pair slunk to the edge of the ravine and peered down.

Two cats, one larger than the other, were hurrying through the ferns. The smaller one came fully into view first and Sunleap recognized Blue. 

Then the larger emerged. It was Slate, and the dim light caught his fur in a way the LightClan tom had seen before, on the high ledges in the Gathering Place. If Sunleap had any doubts that Slate was the rogue who had given orders to Weasel, those doubts were now gone.

“Stay here,” Sunleap quietly ordered Redspot.

The she-cat stared in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you think you can manage alone?”

“I’m a LightClan warrior,” he reminded her. “I can handle a rogue and a kit. Just stand by.” He slipped down without another sound.

She sighed. “He _better_ not get shredded into mousedust,” she muttered, settling herself to watch.

Blue was very excited about leaving the only home he’d known. Slate hadn’t given him any explanation, and the kit was curious but he wasn’t mouse-brained. He understood that something big and dangerous was going on around him, and so he decided to take whatever his father offered and be happy with that. He clambered on to a large tree root and shifted to leap to a nearby stone. He looked back at Slate as he did so, then looked past Slate, to a light brown form rushing out from the brush and toward them.

“Dad! Look!”

As Slate spun about, Blue’s eyes went wider still. The running figure was their LightClan visitor – and his Force-Crystal was glowing and his extended right foreclaws were glowing the same blue. The downpour created a hissing sound as they struck both the claws and the Force-Crystal.

“Get up the ridge!” Slate called to him, but Blue hesitated, watching as his father extended his own claws and lunged at the charging LightClan warrior. With amazing reflexes, Sunleap dodged the movement and launched a counter-attack.

“Blue!” Slate yowled, and the kit came out of his trance and scrambled up the rock behind him.

Sunleap launched himself through the air at the rogue tom. Time and again his opponent slashed at him, and the LightClan warrior easily dodged or blocked each blow before lunging at Slate. But the rogue leapt away and to the top of a root.

Sunleap tumbled ears over tail, turning as he rolled to come around as Slate lunged again. Without even thinking of the movement, letting the Force guide his paw, the LightClan tom slashed his right paw to the left and down, knocking the other off-balance.

“You’re coming with me, Slate,” he growled.

The rogue answered with a flurry of blows. The warrior moved alternately left then right, dodging each one, and when Slate altered the pattern, left, right, left, right, then right again, the Force guided Sunleap’s paws true.

“Slate!” he started to call out. But then the rogue flew at his now-unprotected belly, and the next heartbeat he was diving, enhancing his leap with the Force.

Blue was observing the battle with horror. He caught his breath as he saw his father stumble, but let it out in relief a heartbeat later. He calmed himself quickly, though, scanning the area for the enemy warrior, and saw Sunleap coming over from a roll, back to his paws – and blocking another series of blows with seeming ease.

Blue looked around, trying to remember all of his lessons about fighting in Wet Trees, glad that he had been so diligent in his training. With a dark purr that would have made his father proud, Blue climbed up the nearest tree and found a weak branch right above the enemy.

“Block this, LightClan crowfood,” he hissed. He double-checked Sunleap’s position and slammed both forepaws down hard.

“You have a lot to answer!” Sunleap called to Slate, his voice sounding thin in the thunderous downpour and lashing wind. “It’ll go easier on you, and on your son, if –”

He stopped suddenly, registering the crack of a heavy branch somewhere in his subconscious. The Force had him moving instinctively before he understood what was happening, leaping and flying across the air.

Sunleap slid along the slick ground as the falling branch missed him by a tail-length, his Force-Crystal was wrenched from his leg and tumbled across the rain-soaked ground. Fortunately, he regained his balance and wasted no time charging at Slate, who was coming fast his way.

The rogue didn’t flinch at Sunleap’s lunge. He charged right into the LightClan warrior, slamming into Sunleap’s side and bearing him sideways.

He tried to force Sunleap to the ground, but the LightClan warrior’s paws were too quick for that, setting him in perfect balance almost immediately. He twisted himself to one side, attempting to get out of Slate’s grip. Instead, they both suddenly felt the ground crumble beneath them and the combatants fell toward the raging river below.

It was all Redspot could do to stay put. Sunleap, for all his boasting, was not doing nearly as well as he had expected to. And now he _and_ the rogue he’d been fighting were out of her sight and reach.

Blue was just as helpless, watching from halfway down the tree. “Dad!” he cried as he searched desperately.

Sunleap dug his claws desperately into the side of the steep embankment and tried to find his way back to the Force, but Slate kicked him repeatedly. He could hardly believe that the rogue would waste the effort, with certain death awaiting them both down below. He glanced up in time to see Slate raise a paw, claws extended.

Sunleap instinctively recoiled as Slate slammed his paw down, but he instead latched onto a root. The rogue kicked out one last time and caught the LightClan warrior with a well-placed strike to the shoulder.

“Catch a blood-fish for me,” Sunleap heard Slate meow, and then he was falling toward the raging white water.

“Dad! Oh, Dad!” Blue cried in relief as he spotted his father clambering back over the edge of the embankment and onto firm ground. Slate climbed to his paws and stumbled toward the rock, and Blue rushed down the tree and reached down to help his father up.

“Lead us out of here,” the dazed and battered Slate mewed, and Blue purred and turned about to do as his father ordered.

“Let’s go!” he meowed.

Sunleap used the Force to grab a dangling root and his descent stopped with a sudden jerk. Slowly but surely he pulled himself up, ears ringing with the roar of the river below.

“Need an extra paw?” came a teasing voice from above.

Sunleap looked up to see Redspot’s amused face staring down at him. He gave her a rueful look and allowed her to pull him up the rest of the way by his scruff.

He paused to catch his breath, summoning his Force-Crystal back to his right foreleg with the Force as Redspot started tending to the injuries he had sustained in the fight.

“Did you see where they went?” he asked.

“I did,” was the reply. “Toward the sunset. Provided they continue that way, they should be easy enough to track.”

The tom drew a deep breath and looked around the area, mulling over the battle in his head, his respect for this rogue, Slate, growing considerably. He understood now why Slate had been selected by Farlight, or Darkbird, or whoever it was that selected him. The tom was good, full of tricks, and full of skill.

He had taken Sunleap, a LightClan warrior, the tom who had defeated DarkClan warrior Darkmaul, to the very edge of disaster.

But Sunleap was still pleased at the way it had played out. He and Redspot would track Slate now. Perhaps at the end of the coming journey, he would finally get some answers instead of even more riddles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those of you who have left kudos and comments, and if you haven't yet don't forget to!


	21. Pursuit and Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the tardiness..... let it suffice to say that home-renovation is time-consuming and exhausting and makes it really hard to keep a writing schedule. So sorry, y'all!

Blue sat quietly on the ledge, sensing the tension, as his father tended to his own injuries. It had taken them three sunrises to reach the outer part of Stone-place, far enough away from Wet Trees that Slate felt safe enough to rest. 

Slate pressed the last of the cobwebs to a slash on his side and breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes softening almost immediately. “Well, that was a bit too close,” he purred.

“You shredded him good,” Blue replied, his excitement beginning to bubble up again. “He never had a chance against you, Dad!”

Slate dipped his head. “To tell the truth, Son, he had me in real trouble there,” he admitted. “After he dodged that belly rake, I’d about run out of tricks.”

Blue laid his ears back at first, wanting to argue against any opponent ever getting the upper paw on his father, but then, as he considered the moment Slate had mentioned, his indignation was replaced with pride. “I got him good with that branch!”

“You did great,” Slate replied. “You dropped it at just the right time, and were right there, ready to help me when it was time for us to go. You’re learning well, Blue. Better than I ever believed possible.”

“That’s because I’m _your_ kit,” the younger tom reasoned, but Slate flicked an ear in disagreement.

“You’re better than I was at your age, and by a long way. And if you keep practicing, you’ll be the best tracker and fighter any cat has ever seen.”

“Which was your plan from the beginning with the Tribe of White Waters, right, Dad? That’s why you wanted me!”

Slate leaned over and licked the top of Blue’s head. “That and a lot of other reasons,” he mewed quietly, reverently. “And in every regard, in every hope and dream, you’ve done better than I ever expected.”

There was nothing that any cat living or dead could ever tell young Blue to make him feel better than that statement from his father.

Slate led the way through the vast maze of stones, keeping his senses alert for danger. For Blue, traveling alongside his father, learning from him how to survive, there could be no greater moment.

He turned his attention to his surroundings, mimicking his father, taking in the different rock shapes and prey scurrying around.

He noticed a shape weaving through the stones far behind them. He didn’t think too much of it at first, until a second shape appeared, right beside the first.

“Nearly there, Son,” Slate remarked.

“Dad, I think we’re being tracked,” Blue told him. “Look, someone’s following us.”

Slate looked at him doubtfully, then turned that skeptical expression behind them. Blue watched with mounting excitement as his father’s gaze slowly turned intense.

“That LightClan cat’s companion must have been hiding nearby,” he agreed. “I guess he wasn’t dead after all.”

“What do we do?” Blue asked.

“We’ll fix it,” Slate assured him. “Stay close! We’re going to lead them deep into the rock-forest.” He looked over at Blue and his eyes glinted. “And if they follow, we’ll leave them a couple of surprises.”

They broke into a run and aimed toward the rock-forest. Slate led the way, weaving back and forth through the tall stones with no apparent pattern, and a few heartbeats later, Blue, who was still glancing back, announced, “They’re gone.”

“Maybe they’re smarter than I thought and headed on through to StoneClan territory,” Slate mewed.

Even as he finished, though, the pursuers reappeared behind them.

“Look, Dad!” Blue cried, pointing at them with his tail. “They’re back!”

“Watch this!” Slate meowed, and he darted over to one of the rocks, kicking at some of the rubble beneath it, then raced away as it began to topple. “That’ll slow them down,” he explained to Blue who purred.

The stone hit the ground in a cloud of dust and debris, blocking the path behind them. Blue yowled in alarm as some of the debris flew up close to them.

“Stay calm,” Slate assured him. “We’ll be fine. They shouldn’t be able to follow us through that.”

But his declaration was countered by the shadowy shapes that emerged from the dust-cloud.

“They got through it!” Blue cried in dismay.

“These cats can’t take a hint,” mewed Slate, who remained unrattled. “Well, if we can’t lose them, we’ll have to finish them.”

The pair raced into a tunnel just large enough for them to run through beneath a pile of rocks. Once on the other side, they clambered onto one of the stones and onto a ledge covered with loose rocks and other debris. They slowed and looked down, and when they did, Slate and Blue saw the LightClan cat and his she-cat companion race past them. The hunted had suddenly become the hunters.

Quick to take advantage, the rogues shoved debris and rocks toward the cats below, who began dodging just as quickly.

Slate stayed with them, trying to hit the LightClan cat directly, but the warrior was good, dodging one rock after the other, each time narrowly avoiding injury.

Blue continued to urge his father on, but Slate kept his patience, figuring that sooner or later, the LightClan cat would run out of luck.

Slate spotted a larger rock just ahead and lengthened his stride, launching himself at it. He twisted as he lunged, all four paws hitting the rock at once, striking it with enough strength to knock it off-balance.

Down it fell, breaking into pieces when it hit the ground. One piece glanced off the LightClan cat’s shoulder and caused him to stumble.

“You got him!” Blue yowled in victory.

“And now we just need to finish both of them,” the ever-cool Slate explained. “There’ll be no more dodging.” He raced further along until they reached a huge pile of rocks ahead of the two below. A large branch was the only thing keeping the pile from tumbling down. Slate moved to remove it, then paused and turned to Blue, purring, beckoning him forward with his tail.

Blue could hardly breathe as his father lifted a paw toward the branch, then looked down at him and dipped his head.

The kit grabbed the branch and pulled. The stones tumbled down with a loud crash, falling toward the LightClan cat and his companion, who scrambled to avoid them.

A heartbeat later, a large cloud of dust exploded upward, forcing Blue and Slate to shield their faces. When they recovered and looked down, they were greeted by nothing but stones piled up below them. There was no sign of the pursuers.

“Got them!” Blue yowled. “Yeahhh!”

“Nice work, Blue,” Slate meowed, and he licked the top of Blue’s head again. “You earned that one. We won’t see them again.”

They turned and continued on at a swift pace.

The piles of rocks lay silent below the ledge they had fallen from. In a crevice just behind one of the piles huddled a pair of cats, scratches from the stones easily seen.

“Thorns and thistles. This is why I hate traveling,” Sunleap mewed to Redspot, who agreed wholeheartedly. Few things could rattle the LightClan warrior, but engaging in a battle in the middle of a forest made of stones with a cat as skilled as Slate was surely one of them. Unlike many of his Clanmates, Sunleap had never much enjoyed traveling any more than he enjoyed climbing.

He winced as his injured shoulder brushed against the wall of the crevice. His wounds from his last fight with the fierce rogue had partially reopened and now he had new injuries from the debris flung at them by Slate. The two Clan cats had understood that they wouldn’t be able to outrun the pile of rubble. So they had bolted for the first crevice they saw, narrowly avoiding being crushed. Upon taking stock of their injuries, Sunleap and Redspot were relieved to see that they weren’t worse off.

They wanted no further fights with Slate and his equally vicious son, though, and so they had crouched here as the heartbeats slipped past.

“Well,” Sunleap mewed after a while. “I think we’ve waited long enough. Let’s go.” As they wriggled out of the crevice, shoving away some of the blocking debris, Sunleap pondered all of the amazing things he had seen on the trail of Slate. “This mystery gets more wound up all the time, Redspot. Think maybe we’ll finally get some answers?”

“Hopefully,” was the dry response.

Picking up the rogues’ trail once more, Sunleap was not surprised that it led straight for the heart of the stone-covered landscape. What did surprise him, though, was that they weren’t the only cats in this place. Peering over a ledge, they could see many cats lounging around the entrance of a cavern. Cats that they both recognized.

“FieldClan cats,” Sunleap mused aloud as he shifted to get a better view.

“So many?” Redspot blinked and exchanged confused looks with her LightClan companion. If the rogue army was for the Tribe of Gathering, requested by a LightClan sage, and Slate was the sire of all the rogues, then what ties would Slate have to FieldClan? And if Slate was indeed behind the assassination attempts on ForestClan’s mediator, the leading voice of opposition to creating an army for the Tribe of Gathering, then why would FieldClan approve?

It occurred to Sunleap that he might have misjudged Slate, or misjudged his motivations, at least. Maybe Slate, like Sunleap and Skypaw, had been chasing the real assassin, rather than being involved in the attempt.

The LightClan warrior couldn’t convince himself of that, though. He still believed that Slate _was_ the cat behind the assassination attempt. But why the rogue army? And why the FieldClan ties? There was no apparent logic to it.

The pair knew that they would get no answers from here, so they slipped down the ledge, keeping the surrounding rocks between them and the FieldClan cats. They kept low as soon as they reached the bottom, slinking behind the cavern. Redspot saw a small hole at the very back of the cavern and they hurried toward it. It appeared to lead into the cavern from a different angle. The smell of rotted eggs came from inside. They crouched beneath an overhang, hidden from any others.

“Stay here, Redspot. I’ll be back.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’ll be fine,” Sunleap assured her. “And I won’t be long.”

The she-cat sighed, then reluctantly agreed. “Fine. One full sunrise, then I’m coming in after you.”

Satisfied, Sunleap leaned out of their hiding place, checked his bearings, and started down the tunnel.

The tunnel was narrow and steep, but at least the ground was solid.

Or almost solid, he realized, as a shrill shriek split the air, startling him. His paws slipped. He nearly slid all the way down but caught his balance, as a bunch of gravel fell loose, sliding down the tunnel.

The LightClan tom extended his claws but did not activate his Force-Crystal. He moved along cautiously, down and around a bend in the rocky tunnel.

He saw the large lizard coming for him as he stepped out of the tunnel and onto a wide ledge, its huge fangs dripping lines of drool. Its eyes were fixed on him in an unblinking stare. The Force-Crystal hummed to life and Sunleap dived down to the side, lashing out as he fell, opening the lizard’s side from foreleg to hind. The lizard attempted to turn, but as it spasmed in pain, it over-balanced and fell off the ledge, plummeting multiple tree-lengths and shrieking all the way.

Sunleap watched the descent quietly. “Fun place,” he remarked, deactivating his Force-Crystal. He moved along carefully, not wanting to be seen. He slipped into another tunnel and emerged on another ledge, this one just wide enough for him to creep along.

Peering over the edge, he watched in amazement as hundreds of cats paraded around below him. Not only FieldClan cats, but cats from other Clans and even some rogues and loners as well.

“Unbelievable,” the LightClan tom muttered and he looked ahead to see another tunnel, this one below him.

Realizing that he had no other options, he closed his eyes and found his power in the Force. Then he leapt out, lifting himself with the Force to ease his descent. His front paws found the edge of the tunnel and he pulled himself quickly inside. Silently, he made his way through, dropped down into a large chamber, and began to slip from shadow to shadow, sensing that something or someone was near.

He heard their voices before he saw them, and he ducked between a pair of toppled rocks, grateful for the strong stench.

A group of six cats walked past him, four in front and two behind. Two cats that smelled like locals were in that front row, along with a FieldClan cat whom Sunleap knew all too well and a tom whose features were also recognizable from images the LightClan warrior had seen in the LightClan camp.

“Now we must insure ClayClan and SwampClan will join us in full,” that former LightClan cat, Birdclaw, was mewing. The tom was tall and regal, with perfect posture and a graceful gait. His tabby fur gleamed and was perfectly groomed and his elegant form, strong shoulders, and piercing eyes completed the look of a cat who had once been among the greatest LightClan had.

“What about the mediator from ForestClan?” asked the FieldClan leader, Newtstar, his amber eyes and thin body seeming smaller still next to Birdclaw. “Is she dead yet? I’m not joining fully until I have her pelt lining my nest.”

Sunleap flicked an ear, huge pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. It made sense to him that Newtstar would want Berryheart dead, even if her voice of opposition to an army for the Tribe of Gathering was working in his favor. Berryheart had embarrassed the FieldClan leader badly in the Battle of Green Trees, after all.

“I am a cat of my word, Newtstar,” Birdclaw replied.

“With all of us together, we will have the finest army in existence,” mewed the tom to Birdclaw’s other side whom Sunleap believed to be a high-ranking cat if not the leader. His fur was similar in color to Birdclaw, though the tabby pattern was striped rather than swirled.

They continued their banter, but had moved out of earshot by then, and Sunleap didn’t dare step out to follow. They moved across the way, through a large entrance and down the tunnel beyond.

After a short pause to make sure they were well along, Sunleap rushed out, peeking through to the tunnel, then crept down it, coming to a narrow ledge overlooking a smaller chamber. Inside, he saw the six who had passed, along with several others, notably three opposition mediators the LightClan warrior recognized. First came Spiderface of WaveClan, a light brown tom with notably long whiskers. Beside him sat Bucktear of MesaClan, with her mouselike face and skinny tail, and Squidface of RiverClan, his brown eyes wide with anxiety. Sunleap had met this trio back in the Gathering Place.

Yes, he realized, it seemed he had walked right into the center of the snake-den.

“You have met Marredstar?” Birdclaw, seated at the head of the group, asked the three mediators. “She leads ClayClan.” Across the way, Marredstar dipped her head deferentially. Her delicate and grey face was her most striking feature, aside from long and sharply pointed ears.

“And this is Sandstar, distinguished leader of MoorClan,” Birdclaw went on, indicating a tom with the longest and narrowest face Sunleap had ever seen.

Those gathered in the chamber murmured their greetings to each other, for many heartbeats, and then they went silent, all eyes settling on Birdclaw, who seemed to Sunleap in complete control here, even above the local cats.

“As I explained to you earlier, I’m quite convinced that more Clans and Tribes will rally to our cause with your support,” the tom mewed. “And let me remind you that what we are proposing is complete free roaming and trading.” He looked to Newtstar, who dipped his head.

“Our friends in FieldClan have pledged their support,” Birdclaw went on. “With their large numbers are combined with yours, we shall have an army greater than anything ever seen. The Tribe of Gathering will be overwhelmed.”

“If I may, Birdclaw,” mewed one of the other, one of the two who had trailed Birdclaw to the chamber.

“Yes, Silverstar,” Birdclaw answered. “We are always interested in hearing from SwampClan.”

The huddled and nervous tom offered a slight dip of his head. “I wish to offer our full support to you.”

“We are most grateful for your cooperation, Silverstar,” Birdclaw mewed.

Sunleap recognized the exchange for what it was, a play for the benefit of the other, less enthusiastic, cats present. Birdclaw was trying to build some momentum.

That momentum hit a bit of a bump a heartbeat later, though, when Marredstar piped in. “ClayClan at this time does not wish to become openly involved.” However, she smoothed it over immediately. “But we shall support you in secret, and look forward to our partnership.”

Several mrrows of laughter erupted around the chamber, and Birdclaw only purred. “That is all we ask,” he assured Marredstar. Then he looked to the leader of MoorClan, and all other gazes settled on Sandstar as well.

“MoorClan will support you whole-heartedly, Birdclaw,” Sandstar declared. “But only in a nonexclusive arrangement.”

Sunleap settled back, trying to sort out the implications of it all. Birdclaw had it all falling together here, a threat beyond anything the Tribe of Gathering had expected. With all of these large Clans backing him, the potential danger was staggering.

Was that why Farlight had requested the rogue army? Had the sage sensed this growing danger, perhaps? But if that was true, then what was the tie between Slate and this group here? Was it mere coincidence that the tom chosen as sire of the army to defend the Tribe of Gathering had been hired by FieldClan to kill the ForestClan mediator?

It seemed too much a coincidence to Sunleap, but he had little else to go on. He wanted to hang around and listen in some more, but he knew then that he had to get out of there and get a warning out to the LightClan Council.

Over the last sunrises, Sunleap had seen nothing but armies, and he knew that it would all be coming together very quickly in a battle beyond anything any Clan had seen in many, many seasons.


	22. Search and Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gasp! Am I actually on time for once???

Skypaw raced through a large canyon of brown and red stone, across dunes of blowing and shifting sand, and along an ancient, long-dry riverbed. His only guide was the sensation of Stalk, of her pain. But it was not a definitive trail, and though he suspected he was moving in the general direction, the Great-Sand-Place was vast and empty, and none knew how to hide among the sand and stones better than the local rogues.

On a high bluff, Skypaw paused and studied his surroundings. To his right, he noticed two cats, a tom and a she-cat, who appeared to be hunting. Recognizing that these small cats must be from the mysterious Tribe of Wandering Sands, and well aware that no cat knew the movements of all creatures among the desert better than they, he started toward them.

He caught up to them quickly, catching their attention, and the she-cat hurried over to him with curiosity in her eyes.

“I’m looking for a she-cat,” he told her. “She was taken prisoner by a group of rogues.”

She considered this for a heartbeat. “I haven’t seen anything,” she replied, thoughtfulness in her voice. She turned to her Tribemate. “Dust Storm! Have you seen any rogues with a she-cat prisoner?”

The tom’s eyes narrowed, then widened. “This she-cat you’re looking for, does she have brown and white fur? Bright blue eyes like yours?”

Excitement filled the LightClan apprentice’s eyes. “You’ve seen her?”

“A sunrise or so ago,” was the reply. “Forced along by three rogues.”

“Which way?”

Dust Storm pointed with his tail. “There’s a broken Twoleg-den that way where they might be headed. Vicious rats have been living there, though, so tread lightly.”

With a dip of his head, Skypaw sped away in the indicated direction.

The waiting was unbearable for Berryheart. Owen and Whitesun were friendly enough, and Lars was obviously glad for the added company in his time of great concern and profound grief, but she could hardly approach them, so worried was she for Skypaw. She had never seen him in a mood like the one that had taken him from the barn, his determination so palpable that she had felt it deep in her bones. She had certainly felt Skypaw’s power in that parting, an inner strength beyond anything she had ever known.

If his mother was indeed alive, and she believed that Stalk was, since Skypaw had believed so, Berryheart knew that no danger would be enough to keep the young LightClan apprentice from her.

She didn’t sleep well, rising often and pacing around the barn. She wandered out to a large stone and sat there, alone with her thoughts – or so she believed.

“Hello, Berryheart,” came a warm voice, and as soon as Berryheart got over the initial shock, she recognized the speaker.

“You can’t sleep either?” Gold asked.

“No, I have too many things on my mind, I guess.”

He leapt up to join her. “What sorts of things?”

“I’m worried about Skypaw. I said things … I’m afraid I might have hurt him. I don’t know. Maybe I only hurt myself. For the first time in my life, I’m confused.”

“I’m not sure it will make you feel any better, but I’m fairly certain relationships always involve some amount of confusion. Even between family.”

“I _do_ care about him, Gold,” Berryheart mewed quietly. “And I _want_ him to know that I care about him. But now he’s out there, and in danger –”

“Don’t worry about Skypaw,” the tom assured her, touching her shoulder with his tail. “He can take care of himself.”

They sat in silence for a few heartbeats, looking out over the sand.

Gold broke the silence first. “I used to sit on this rock to watch for him, you know.”

“Really?” Berryheart asked. “Even though you didn’t know if he would return?”

“Of course,” was the reply. “I always knew he’d come back to us.” He hissed quietly as he shifted his weight.

Berryheart alerted immediately. “How are your wounds?”

“Well, this _is_ a very harsh place to live, I’m afraid,” he explained. “The wind and the sand especially. It gets under your fur and into any scratch or nick, and it’s coarse, rough, and quite … irritating.”

“Coarse, rough, and irritating, eh?” Berryheart echoed with a purr of amusement – much-needed amusement.

“I’m not sure how else to describe it … What’s so funny?” His eyes narrowed at her.

“You sound just like Skypaw,” she replied.

The she-cat could easily see the pride in his eyes at the comparison. It was more than obvious just how much Gold loved his brother.

“I’m no medicine cat but if you’d like I can tend to your injuries for you,” Berryheart offered.

“Oh, that _would_ be nice!”

Glad for the distraction, they headed back toward the barn together.

As soon as he came upon the grisly scene, Skypaw could guess for himself what had happened. The blood and scuff-marks in the sand indicated that the rats had attacked the rogues while they rested, perhaps a quarter-moon or so ago. Rat bodies littered the ground and he could only imagine that the main horde was much larger. Studying the ground more closely, he realized that one of the cats had run off. Stalk must have used the chaos to escape! But where was she now? Had she managed to outrun the rogues _and_ the rats?

Skypaw ran a paw over his face, tail lashing in agitation. “Calm down,” he told himself. “Find her.” He fell within himself then, within the Force, and sent his senses out far and wide, needing the confirmation that his mother was alright.

A streak of pain assaulted him, and a cry that was both hopeful and helpless entered his mind.

“Mom,” he gasped breathlessly, and he knew that time was running out, that Stalk was in terrible pain and was barely holding on.

He turned and ran full out across the darkening sand, following Stalk’s call.

She wasn’t seeing much with her eyes. Covered in drying rat-blood and misty with the growing infection from the gash along her haunches, they would hardly open. She wasn’t hearing much with her ears, for the sounds of the rats trying and failing to access her makeshift sanctuary were constant and threatening, relentlessly so. And she wasn’t feeling with her body, for there was nothing there but pain.

No, Stalk had fallen inside herself, reliving those moments long ago, when she and her sons had lived their lives in the settlement where she and Sky had been Dare’s serf cats. It was not an easy life, but she had her Sky and Gold with her, and given that, Stalk could remember those times fondly. Only now, with the prospects for ever seeing either of her sons again so distant, did she truly appreciate how much she had missed her older kit over the past moons. All those times staring out across the dunes with Gold, she had thought of Sky, had imagined him racing across the vastness, rescuing the downtrodden, saving entire Clans from ravaging rogues and evil tyrants. But just like her younger son she had always expected to see her Sky again, had always expected him to walk up to the barn one bright sunrise, that impish gleam in his eyes, the one that could light up any place, greeting her and Gold as if they had never been apart.

Stalk had loved Lars and Owen. Truly she had. Lars was her rescuer, her handsome warrior, and Owen had been like the second son she had lost, always compassionate, always happy to listen to her and Gold’s endless stories of Sky’s exploits. And Stalk was growing to love Whitesun, too. Who could not? Whitesun was that special combination of compassion and quiet inner strength.

But despite the good fortune that had brought those three into her life, improving her lot by so much more, Stalk had always kept a special place in her heart reserved for her Sky, her first son, her hero. And so now, as it seemed the end of her life was imminent, Stalk’s thoughts focused on those memories she had of Sky, while at the same time, she reached out to him with her heart. He was always different with such feelings, always so attuned to that mysterious Force. The LightClan tom who had come to the Great-Sand-Place had seen it in him clearly.

Perhaps, then, Sky would feel her love for him now. She needed that, needed to complete the cycle, to let her son recognize that through it all, through the missing moons and the great distances between them, she had loved him unconditionally and had thought of him constantly.

Her resilience, her ability to last as long as she had, was wrought of a mother’s love. Without the memories of her sons and the hope that Sky, at least, would feel her love for them, she would surely have given up long ago and allowed herself to die.

Under the pale light of a full moon, Skypaw halted at the ridge of a high dune and peered across the desert wastes. Not too far below him, he saw a large Twoleg-den near a small oasis, and he knew at once that it was the ruined Twoleg-den the sand-roamer had mentioned. He could sense his mother down there, could feel her pain.

He crept closer, studying the ruin for anything that might clue him in to a way in without disturbing either the rats he could smell inside or the rogues he smelled in the stillness outside. A gap to one side caught and held his attention: It was only just large enough for a cat to squeeze through while being too high for the rats to reach. As he came around a bit more, he grew intrigued, noting the blood streaked along the edges and a tuft of brown and white fur caught in a crack.

“Oh, Mom,” Skypaw breathed.

Silent as a shadow, the LightClan apprentice crept up to the gap, feeling that his mother was inside. He came up to it, and lifted himself up onto his haunches, feeling the emotions and pain of the cat within. A quick glance around reassured him that the rats were still sleeping inside the main part of the den.

Skypaw crouched low and leapt for the gap. Grabbing it with both paws, he quickly pulled himself inside. 

“Mom,” he breathed again, and his legs weakened beneath him. The chamber was lit by a shaft of pale moonlight streaming through a hole in the roof, illuminating the figure of Stalk, lying in the center of the chamber. She was covered with dried blood which did little to hide the gash caused by the rogues stretching across her haunches, and the multiple bites and scratches from the rats.

Skypaw quickly rushed over and gently cleaned the blood from her face and eyes.

“Mom … Mom … Mom,” he mewed softly. Skypaw knew that she was alive, though she did not immediately respond and lay so pitifully limp, the stench of infection coming from the gash. He could feel her in the Force, though she was a thin, thin sensation.

He groomed her filthy, bedraggled pelt and kept repeating her name softly, and finally, Stalk’s eyelids fluttered open to reveal eyes foggy with the spreading infection.

“Sky?” she mewed back. He could feel her wheezing as she tried to speak. “Sky? Is it you?”

Gradually her eyes began to focus upon him, and he could hear a weak purr of recognition coming from her chest.

“I’m here, Mom,” he told her. “You’re safe now. Hang on. I’m going to get you home.”

“Sky? Sky?” Stalk replied, and she tilted her head, the way she often had when Skypaw was a kit, seeming quite amused by him. “You look so handsome.”

“Save your strength, Mom,” he mewed, trying to calm her. “We’ve got to get away from here.”

“My son,” Stalk went on, and she seemed to be in a different place than Skypaw, a safer place. “My grown-up kit. I knew you’d come back to me. I knew it all along.”

Skypaw tried again to tell her to lie still and save her strength, but no sound would emerge.

“I’m so proud of you, Sky. Your brother and I are both so proud. We missed you so much.”

“I missed both of you, too, Mom, but we can talk later …”

“Now I am complete,” Stalk announced then, and she looked straight up, past Skypaw, past the hole in the ceiling, to the shining moon and the stars of Silverpelt, it seemed.

Somewhere deep inside, Skypaw understood. “Just stay with me, Mom,” he pleaded, and he had to work very hard to keep the desperation out of his voice. “I’m going to take you home. Gold and I can make you well again. Everything’s … going to be fine.”

“I love …” Stalk started to mew, but then she went still, her head dropping back to the ground, and Skypaw saw the light leave her eyes.

Skypaw could hardly draw his breath. Wide-eyed with disbelief, he lowered his head and nudged her with his paw like a kit. She couldn’t be gone! She couldn’t! He pulled back again, staring into her eyes, silently pleading with her to answer him. But there was no light there, no flicker of life. He huddled close, pressing his nose to her fur for a long time.

Then he sat back and closed his eyes.

Skypaw didn’t know what to do. He sat motionless, staring at his dead mother, his wounded brother in his mind. He replayed all of the events of his life in his head, wondering what he might have done differently, done better, to keep Gold from getting injured, to keep Stalk alive. He should never have left them here in the first place, he realized, should never have let Moonlight take him away from the Great-Sand-Place without bringing his mother and brother along, as well. She said they were proud of him and Gold had shown such faith in him, but how could he deserve their faith or pride if he could not even save either of them?

He wanted them both to be proud of him, wanted to tell his mom all about the things that had come into his life, his LightClan warrior training, all the good work he had already done, and most of all, about Berryheart. Oh how he wanted his mom to really get to know Berryheart! She would have loved her. How could she not? And Berryheart would have loved her.

Now what was he going to do?

The time slipped past and Skypaw just sat there, immobilized by his confusion, by a budding self-loathing and the most profound emptiness he had ever known. Only when the pale light began to grow around him did he even remember where he was.

He looked about, wondering how he might get his mother’s body out of there – for he certainly wasn’t going to leave it to the rats. He could hardly move, though. There seemed a profound pointlessness to it all, a series of motions without meaning.

He realized dimly that the only way to get her out now was through the blocked hole that led into the ruin itself. Where the rats were now attempting to access this chamber and the dead body of Stalk.

Coldness seeped into his heart, his very being, giving an outside target for his pain and self-hatred, turning it into fury. Some small part of him warned him not to give in to that anger, warned him that such emotions were of the dark side.

Then he looked at Stalk lying there, so still, seeming at peace but covered with the clear evidence of all the pain and sickness that had been inflicted upon her poor body these last sunrises.

The LightClan apprentice rose to his paws, ears pinned back, and activated his Force-Crystal, then boldly strode to the blockage and opened the hole.

The rats fell back in alarm, staring at him as he stood in the entrance. Then as one they charged him.

He extended his claws, right fore-claws glowing blue in the dim ruin, as the rage took hold and he moved to strike them all down.

Deep in his meditations, peering through the dark side, Lightstar felt a sudden surge of anger, of grief and loathing beyond control. The diminutive leader’s eyes flew open wide at the overwhelming strength of that rage.

And then he heard a voice, a familiar voice, crying, “No, Skypaw! No! Don’t! No!”

It was Moonlight. Lightstar knew that it was Moonlight. But Moonlight was dead, had departed to StarClan and become one with the Force! One _could not_ communicate directly with the living once that happened save through a Starstone to medicine cats.

But Lightstar had heard the ghostly call, and in his deep meditative state, his thoughts focused as precisely as they had ever been, the LightClan leader knew that he had not been mistaken.

He wanted to focus on that, then, perhaps to try to follow that call back to the ghostly source, but he could not, overwhelmed again by the surge of rage and pain.

He made a noise and lurched forward, then came out of his trance as his deputy rushed in.

“What is it?” Violetlight asked.

“Pain. Suffering. Death! I fear something terrible has happened. Young Skypaw is in pain. Terrible pain.”

He didn’t tell Violetlight the rest of it, that somehow Skypaw’s rush of agony manifesting in the Force had tapped into the spirit of the dead sage who had discovered him. Too much was happening here.

That disembodied familiar voice hung profoundly in Lightstar’s thoughts. For if it was true, if he had heard what he was sure he had heard …

Skypaw, too, had heard the voice of Moonlight, imploring him to restrain himself, to deny the rage. He hadn’t recognized it at first, for he was too full of pain and anger. But when a blow resulted in a cat’s cry instead of a rat’s he was shaken enough to notice.

Blinking rapidly, he took stock of where he was. The rats lay dead, the stench of burning fur and flesh in the air. Then he looked down at his paws.

A dark brown rogue lay there, slashed from haunch to shoulder. Had _he_ done that? He must have, for the wound had the tell-tale burn caused by Force-infused claws. His eyes slowly rose to see two more rogues cowering away from him.

The rage left as swiftly as it had come. Skypaw could feel himself trembling with shame as he deactivated his Force-Crystal. What kind of LightClan cat was he if he could surrender so easily to the dark? And worse, what would Berryheart think of him if she knew what he had done? He drew a shuddering breath as he glanced around once more.

Out of the corner of his eye Skypaw spotted an aloe plant just outside the entrance. Without a glance at the cowering cats, he padded quickly over to the plant and ripped off one of the spiny leaves. He smeared some of the sap on the rogue’s wound and pressed cobwebs over it as well. Only when he was done did he look at the others.

“You’re the ones who attacked the barn cats?” he asked, though he knew the answer already.

The black tom hesitantly dipped his head. The brown one next to him whimpered.

Skypaw regarded them for a long time. “The she-cat you captured,” he told them slowly, “was my mother.”

The rogues crouched low, eyes wide with fright. Skypaw could sense that they expected him to kill them and were confused by his tending their companion. Who he had nearly killed.

“I should want you dead,” he admitted. “Because of what you did, she is dead. But I will let you live on _one condition_.”

“Anything!” they cried.

He moved so that he towered over them. “You will leave the Great-Sand-Place and never return.” He infused his voice with the power of the Force to compel their adherence. “You will never bother another cat.” He leaned closer. “And if I hear that you have broken this condition, there will be no place for you to hide from me.”

They bobbed their heads repeatedly in agreement, promising to leave once their companion was healed enough to move.

Satisfied, Skypaw returned to his mother and heaved her body onto his back for the journey back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to leave comments down below, it really helps my writing out.


	23. Grief and Helplessness

Bluestripe blinked himself awake and noticed his Clanmate’s absence from her nest. He looked about worriedly before hearing her voice by the entrance. Hurrying over, he saw her tending to the last of Gold’s injuries.

“There!” Berryheart was announcing. “Better?”

Gold stretched himself out experimentally. “Oh, much better! Thank you very much, Berryheart.”

“Have you both been here all night?”

The pair spun in surprise, neither having heard Bluestripe’s approach.

“Most of it, at least,” the she-cat admitted.

Owen padded up a heartbeat later. “Have any of you seen Whitesun yet?” he asked.

Before any of them could answer they heard her calling “He’s back! He’s back!” from outside. They scrambled out into the growing sunlight.

They caught up with Whitesun next to the stone Gold and Berryheart had kept watch from the previous night, and Lars soon joined them, limping as fast as he could.

“Where?” Gold asked.

Whitesun lifted her paw toward the desert.

Squinting against the glare from the sun, Berryheart finally marked the black dot that was Skypaw, coming toward them with speed. As the speck grew into a distinguishable form, she realized that he was not alone, that there was another cat draped over his back.

“Oh, Stalk,” Lars mewed breathlessly. He was trembling visibly.

Whitesun sat down hard and struggled to keep from wailing. Owen stood beside her, his tail draped across her shoulders, and when Berryheart looked over at them, she noticed the grief in Owen’s eyes. Gold’s tail hung limp and his ears and whiskers drooped.

Skypaw crossed into the barn territory a few heartbeats later, pulling up short of the stunned group. Without a sound, he walked up to Gold and paused there for a bit, two brothers sharing a moment of grief.

Then, still as silent, Skypaw moved past them all and into the barn.

All that time, the thing that struck Berryheart the most was the look within Skypaw’s eyes, a look unlike anything she had seen from the LightClan apprentice: part grief, part guilt, part self-reproach, and part resignation, even defeat. She knew that Skypaw would need her, and soon.

But she had no idea of what she might do for him.

They all sat vigil for Stalk, even the ForestClan cats who had not really known her. At sunhigh, they brought her body to the rock at the edge of the border for burial. The deed done, all seven of them lingered by the grave to bid her farewell.

“I know wherever you are, it’s a better place,” Lars mewed softly, fighting to keep the anguish from his voice. “You were the most loving mate a loner could ever have. Good-bye, my darling Stalk. And thank you.”

He glanced briefly at Skypaw and Gold, then lowered his head.

Gold stepped forward and crouched before the grave. He stretched out a trembling paw to rest atop the mound of dirt.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t help bring you back, Mom,” the young tom mewed, sounding more like a kit. His breath shuddered once or twice, but he fought to regain control. “I wasn’t strong enough, or brave enough, but I … I promise I won’t fail again.” His breathing came in short rasps as another wave of grief crashed over him.

As Gold crouched there, unable to move away, Skypaw went to sit by him and curled his tail around him. Gold immediately turned to bury his face in his older brother’s fur. 

The LightClan apprentice gazed at the grave with sorrow. “I was too late to save you. We miss you so much, Mom. May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”

He bent to press his nose to the top of Gold’s head, and all of them stayed silent before the grave.

Sunleap slumped behind a large boulder, tail lashing in frustration. It had taken him a long while to get himself safely out of the cavern, and when he had at last slipped out just before sundown, he had thought the adventure over. But not so.

“That patrol was too close,” he told Redspot, who flicked her ear in agreement.

“We’ll have to be quick, then.”

They moved as quickly and quietly as they could to avoid detection. Upon reaching the outcropping once more the pair discovered a hunting patrol in their path. They tucked themselves into a crevice to hide.

“We’re trapped,” Redspot hissed unnecessarily.

“Okay, then we’ll have to try something else.” Sunleap looked around for an answer. He didn’t want to risk alerting the patrol, but they had to get a message to the LightClan Council and communicating through his Force-Crystal could only stretch so far without overextending much-needed strength.

“Skypaw,” he mewed suddenly.

The ForestClan she-cat stared. “What?”

“I can contact Skypaw and he can extend my reach with his own Force-Crystal. Act as a waypoint, as it were.”

“Is that even possible?” Doubt was in Redspot’s voice.

“It’s worth a try.” He settled back and activated his Force-Crystal, stretching his consciousness across the vast distance toward his apprentice.

_“Skypaw? Skypaw, do you hear me? I can’t contact the Council directly from here. I need your help.”_

Neither cat knew that a patrol had found their scent near the small hole Sunleap had used to enter and exit the cavern. So deeply was Sunleap’s concentration in his task that he didn’t sense the enemies quietly approaching their hideaway.

There wasn’t much conversation within the barn for the rest of that day. Everyone just went on about their duties, any duty, obviously trying to avoid the outpouring of grief that they all felt.

Entering the barn with a small hare for Skypaw, Berryheart was surprised when Whitesun came up to her, and even more surprised when the she-cat started some small talk with her.

“What’s it like there?” Whitesun asked.

Berryheart placed the hare down and looked at her curiously. “I’m sorry?”

“Green Trees. What’s it like?”

Berryheart could hardly even register the question, for her thoughts remained with Skypaw. It took her a long time to respond, but finally she managed. “Oh, it’s very … very green. You know, with lots of water, and trees and plants everywhere. It’s not like here at all.” She turned away as soon as she finished, and knew she was being a bit rude. But all she wanted was to be with Skypaw, and so she went to pick up the hare again.

“There were pine trees in my old Clan’s territory,” Whitesun recalled.

“Maybe you’ll see Green Trees for yourself someday,” Berryheart mewed, more to be polite than anything else.

But Whitesun answered seriously. “I know that ForestClan is one of the friendlier Clans to outsiders, but I don’t think so. I’m not as keen about travelling as I used to be.”

Berryheart grabbed the hare and turned to go. “Thanks, Whitesun,” she mumbled around the mouthful.

She found Skypaw sitting alone in the upper area of the barn by a large opening that overlooked the immediate area behind the barn.

“I brought you something to eat.”

Skypaw glanced at her, but immediately went back to staring out of the opening. She noted that he had left his Force-Crystal a few fox-lengths away near a pile of dried grass, “hay” the barn cats had called it. After a long moment, the LightClan apprentice sighed and dropped his head. 

“Why did she have to die?” he mewled quietly.

Berryheart recognized that he was on the verge of collapse. She placed the hare down and moved beside him, placing a paw comfortably on one of his.

“Why couldn’t I save her?” Skypaw asked. “Why couldn’t I have gotten here before any of this happened?”

“Skypaw, you tried.” She lowered her head to meet his anguished eyes. “Sometimes there are things no cat can fix. You’re not all-powerful.”

He blinked and looked at her then, lost in more than one way. “But they think so,” he mewed, limply indicating the lower level. “Because I’m a LightClan cat.”

“Skypaw –”

“The Council was right.” He pulled away from her and walked a foxlength away, standing with his back to her. “Sunleap was right. I’m not good enough to be a LightClan warrior. They sent me out of the way.”

“To guard me,” she meowed quietly.

“If I was better, everything would have been fine! You would be safely back to your duties in the Gathering Place a long time ago, my brother would have never been wounded, and my mother would still be alive!”

“You can’t know that,” she pressed, then a thought occurred to her. “Skypaw, what’s wrong?”

Her tone caught his attention. “I just told you!”

“No!” Berryheart replied firmly. “No. What’s _really_ wrong?”

Skypaw just stared at her, and she knew she was on to something.

“I know it hurts, Skypaw. But this is more than that. What’s really wrong?”

He just stared at her.

“Skypaw?”

His body seemed to shrink then, and slump forward just a bit. “I … I almost killed one,” he admitted, and if Berryheart hadn’t run to him and braced herself against his side, he would have fallen over. “I almost killed one.”

He looked at her then, and it seemed to her as if he had suddenly returned to her from somewhere far, far away.

“You did battle …” she started to reason.

He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, then he looked back sadly. “But it was more than that. I was attacking the _rats_ so I could take my mother away. I didn’t … I couldn’t …” He stared down at his trembling paws. “I couldn’t control myself,” he admitted. “I … I didn’t even notice him approach – I was too lost in my anger to see.”

“To be angry is normal,” Berryheart assured him.

“To control your anger is to be a LightClan warrior,” Skypaw was quick to reply, and he pulled away from her and moved back to the opening, looking out of the opening and into the desert beyond.

Berryheart was right there beside him, curling her tail around his. “It’s normal,” she mewed softly, pressing her nose to his cheek. “You’re normal.”

“No, I’m a cat of LightClan. I know I’m better than this.” He looked at her directly, lowering his ears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Even LightClan cats are like everyone else,” Berryheart mewed.

Skypaw, unable to hold his emotions in any longer, collapsed to the ground with a pitiful whimper, covering his face with a paw.

Berryheart was there to curl around him and tell him that everything would be all right.

Neither was sure how long they stayed there before they heard something behind them. Berryheart turned to see Gold and Bluestripe slowly approaching. Upon the pair being noticed Gold hurried toward his brother, but Bluestripe was distracted by something else.

“Hey, Skypaw,” he meowed in concern. “Does your Force-Crystal normally do that?”

They spun around to look. The blue Force-Crystal was pulsing bright then dim again repeatedly. Skypaw’s eyes widened and he scrambled to it immediately, reaching for it with the Force. Force-Crystal firmly in place once more, Skypaw settled himself and evened his breathing.

 _“Skypaw?”_ He knew the voice contacting him.

 _“Sunleap? What is it?”_ Skypaw asked.

_“This is very important, so listen carefully: I can’t contact the Council directly from where I am. You’re closer, so I need you to connect my energy to there.”_

Skypaw dug his claws into the wooden ground beneath him and stretched his energy out into the Force toward the Gathering Place. He held his breath as he anxiously waited for a response.

 _“Skypaw?”_ It was Lightstar.

The apprentice’s breath rushed out of him. _“Can you hear Sunleap?”_

 _“Through your energy we can,”_ was the reply.

He felt Sunleap’s relief. Then Sunleap proceeded to report through their combined energy. _“I have tracked the rogue Slate to a territory called the Stone-place. FieldClan has joined with the Tribe of Shadows here and it is clear that Newtstar is behind the assassination attempts on the ForestClan mediator.”_

As Sunleap briefly described the journey and the Stone-place itself, Skypaw remembered Berryheart’s own guess and was unsurprised by this information.

 _“ClayClan and SwampClan have also pledged themselves to Birdclaw and are forming an –”_

Tension suddenly entered his energy, then agitation. Images flooded Skypaw’s mind and through him to the Council.

Sunleap and Redspot were ambushed, surrounded, and overwhelmed, then Sunleap’s connection went silent.

Skypaw heard a cat’s wail, long and pained, within the Force only to realize a heartbeat later that the wail was his.

Because his mentor was in trouble and there was _nothing_ he could do. _Nothing at all._

Within the distant Gathering Place, Lightstar and Violetlight and the council cats considered the message with trepidation and great sadness.

“He is alive,” Lightstar announced, after feeling for Sunleap’s Force-Energy. “I feel him in the Force.”

“But they have taken him,” Violetlight put in. “And things are beginning to move more dangerously.”

“I feel that more is happening in Stone-place than has been revealed,” Volelight put in.

“I agree,” Violetlight mewed. “We must not sit idly by.” He looked at Lightstar, as did every other cat in the chamber, and the small leader closed his eyes, seemingly very weary and very pained by it all.

“The dark side, I feel,” he mewed. “And all is cloudy.”

Violetlight dipped his head and turned a grim look on the others. “Assemble,” he ordered, a command that had not been given to LightClan’s Council in many, many seasons.

 _“We will deal with Birdclaw,”_ Violetlight told Skypaw through the Force. _“The most important thing for you, Skypaw, is to stay where you are. Protect the ForestClan mediator at all costs. That is your first priority.”_

 _“Understood, Violetlight,”_ Skypaw replied.

The apprentice blinked and met the concerned and questioning gazes of his companions. He explained everything to them quietly.

His tone, so full of resignation and defeat, struck Berryheart profoundly. It galled the fiery she-cat to think that Skypaw would be stuck here looking over her, when his mentor was in obvious danger.

She started pacing as she considered what she knew. “StarClan only knows how far away the Stone-place is to the Gathering Place,” she meowed, turning to Skypaw, who seemed despondent. “They might not even make it in time to save him.”

Still no response. Gold and Bluestripe looked back and forth between them.

“Look, there’s only three of us!” Berryheart announced. “Skypaw, we could go there right now!”

“You heard what his orders were.”

“They _can’t_ get to the Stone-place in time to save him!” Berryheart reiterated, her voice rising.

“If he’s still alive,” the young tom answered somberly.

Berryheart stared at him hard, and he turned away and walked off.

“Skypaw, are you just going to sit here and let him die?” she cried, chasing him across the chamber to block his path. “He’s your friend! Your mentor!”

“He’s like my father!” Skypaw shot back at her. “But you heard what Violetlight commanded. He gave me strict orders to stay here.”

Berryheart understood what was happening. Skypaw was doubting himself. He felt himself a failure because of his inability to save his mother, and, perhaps for the first time in his life, he was truly doubting his inner voice, his instincts. She had to find a way around that now, for Skypaw’s sake as much as for Sunleap’s. If they stayed here and did nothing, Berryheart believed that she would lose two friends: Sunleap to the cats of the Stone-place, and Skypaw to his guilt.

“He gave you strict orders to protect me,” she corrected with a glint in her eye, hoping to remind him clearly that his previous orders, which he had ignored, had demanded that he stayed in Green Trees. She brushed past him and headed for the lower level, aiming for the barn entrance. She was halfway to the edge of the territory when Skypaw caught up with Bluestripe and Gold trailing behind him.

The LightClan tom blocked her path. “Berryheart!”

“He gave you strict orders to protect me,” she meowed again. “And I’m going to save Sunleap. So if you plan to protect me, you’ll have to come along.”

Skypaw stared at her for a few heartbeats, and she held his gaze, her head tilted, her ears pricked, determination bright in her eyes.

Skypaw knew that they were acting outside Violetlight’s orders, whatever Berryheart’s justification. He knew that this was not what was expected of him as a LightClan apprentice.

When had that ever stopped him?

The other two finally caught up, Bluestripe voicing the obvious question. “How do we even find the Stone-place? The Force?”

“It’s not exact,” Skypaw replied. “I can only find a general direction, not how far we need to go.”

“I can help with that.”

Skypaw turned to his brother in surprise and alarm. “I don’t know, Gold,” he mewed. “It’ll be –”

“Dangerous? I know.” Gold padded right up to him and looked him determinedly in the eye. “We’re brothers. We stick together now. And I can help you find your mentor.”

Skypaw stared back, then lowered his head. “I don’t want you hurt.”

Gold flicked his tail dismissively. “When has that stopped us?” he replied. “It’ll be just like old times.”

Skypaw purred at that. He was right after all, and it would be great to be with his brother, his only family left, once more.

Berryheart looked at the younger tom. “So how can you get us there faster?”

Gold glanced at each of them with mischief in his eyes. Then he asked in the most casual manner he could muster, “Have any of you heard of a Thundersnake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pop Quiz: any ideas on what Gold means?


	24. Thundersnakes and Great Troubles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll have probably noticed that I changed the final number of chapters. That's because I underestimated the number of split chapters in this fic and had do a full assessment of what's to come.

Gold led the way into the Twolegplace the trio had passed on their way to the barn, indicating to them that it wasn’t a Twolegplace at all, but a Thundersnake den. One that was full of more Twolegs than the Clan cats were comfortable with.

“As long as you ignore them they’ll ignore you in return,” Gold was explaining as he guided them past another group of Twolegs.

“And they’re not concerned about these Thundersnakes denning here at all?” Berryheart asked in astonishment.

“Not in the slightest,” was the response. “Thundersnakes never leave their Silverpaths, so there’s actually less to worry about with them than with monsters.”

Bluestripe growled, “You _still_ haven’t told us what a Thundersnake _is_.”

Gold paused, then pointed with his tail. The Clan cats turned and froze, gaping. It was bigger than any monster they’d seen. Much bigger. Then it screeched, shrill and louder than thunder, and they all cringed away from the terrible sound.

“That’s a Thundersnake.”

The Clan cats were horrified at the sight. Gold hurried further on, clearly looking for someone in particular. He approached a black and white tom lounging beneath a long Twoleg stump. They greeted each other cordially.

“What brings you out here, young Gold?”

“My brother and his Clan-cat friends, Shell. They need to be somewhere quickly.”

Shell regarded them with interest. “Clan cats? Really now?” he commented. “Must be desperate.”

“Life or death,” Skypaw responded shortly. “Can you help us?”

Shell sat up immediately, all business now. “What kind of place are you looking for?”

Berryheart, the most diplomatic, stepped forward. “We’re looking for somewhere called Stone-place. Have you heard of it?”

The loner considered this for a long time. “A couple of loners passed through from there recently, I think. A couple sunrises ago, maybe?”

The Clan cats exchanged swift hopeful glances.

“Which Thundersnake were they riding?” Gold asked.

Shell’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “I believe,” he mewed slowly, “that they rode one called … Silver-Yacht? Yeah, I’m fairly sure that’s its name.”

“Silver-Yacht,” Gold repeated. “Thank you, Shell.”

“No trouble at all,” Shell replied, but the group was already hurrying away.

Gold’s eyes scanned the den walls rapidly, lighting on a patch of wall covered in colors and Twoleg-scratches. Gold went straight up to it and sat down, lifting onto his haunches to study it more closely.

Bluestripe looked back and forth between Gold and the wall in confusion. “Why are we staring at –”

“Ha!” Gold yowled in sudden triumph. “It’s this way!” He bolted away, leaving the rest to scramble after him.

“Wait! What’s this way?” Skypaw asked.

“Silver-Yacht,” was the reply.

“How do you know that by staring at the wall?” Bluestripe demanded.

Gold chanced a glance over his shoulder. “The Twoleg-scratches.”

Skypaw stared at his brother. “You can understand Twoleg-scratches?”

“I had Owen teach me,” Gold told him. “So I could impress you when you came home.”

Skypaw blinked, then purred warmly. “You don’t need to impress me, you know.”

Gold purred back. 

They raced through the den, dodging Twolegs left and right as they turned the corner and finally saw their target. This Thundersnake, Silver-Yacht, was just as massive as the others they’d passed. Bright silver with blue trim, it was as beautiful as it was terrifying. Gold led the group straight toward an opening in the Thundersnake’s belly that was beginning to close on its own. Lengthening their strides, the four cats leapt for the hole, sliding a bit as they landed and dove for a hiding place among the Twoleg-things inside as the opening closed completely behind them.

They sat panting as the Thundersnake began to move beneath their paws, causing them to sway a bit.

Breath caught at last, Berryheart dipped her head to Gold. “Thank you,” she mewed.

Gold dipped his head back as he slumped down. “Now we’ll get there in record time. Thundersnakes are _very_ fast.”

The Clan cats needed no further prompting to lay down as well with Skypaw offering to take first watch. As the others fell quickly to sleep, the LightClan apprentice’s eyes fixed on the space outside. _Hold on, Sunleap,_ he thought fiercely. _We’re coming._

Trapped beneath the silverthorn prison, held down by multiple sharp stones, Sunleap could only watch helplessly as Birdclaw padded into the chamber. Wearing an expression that showed great sympathy, but one that Sunleap certainly did not trust after Redspot had been dragged from the chamber mere moments earlier, the regal tom walked up right before the warrior.

“Traitor,” Sunleap hissed.

“Hello, my friend,” Birdclaw replied. “This is a mistake. A terrible mistake. They’ve gone too far. This is bee-brained!”

“I thought _you_ were the leader here, Birdclaw,” Sunleap replied, holding his voice as steady as possible.

“This had nothing to do with me, I assure you,” the former LightClan cat insisted. He seemed almost hurt by the accusation. “I promise you that I will petition immediately to have you and your friend set free.”

“Well, I hope it doesn’t take too long. We have work to do.” Sunleap noted a slight crack in Birdclaw’s remorseful expression, a slight twinge of … anger?

“May I ask what a LightClan warrior is doing all the way out here in Stone-place with a ForestClan warrior?”

After a moment’s reflection, Sunleap decided that he had little to lose here, and he wanted to continue to press Birdclaw, that he might gauge the truth. “We’ve been tracking a rogue named Slate. Do you know him?”

“There are no rogues here that I’m aware of. CliffClan cats don’t trust them.”

 _Trust_. _There is a good word,_ Sunleap thought. “Well, who can blame them?” came his disarming reply. “But he _is_ here, I assure you.”

Birdclaw paused for a moment, then tilted his head, apparently conceding the point. “It’s a great pity that our paths have never crossed before, Sunleap,” he mewed, his voice warm and inviting. “Moonlight always spoke very highly of you. I wish he was alive – I could use his help right now.”

“Moonlight would _never_ join you.”

“Don’t be so sure, my young warrior,” Birdclaw immediately replied, an offsetting purr in his throat, one of confidence and calm. “You forget that Moonlight was once _my_ apprentice just as _you_ were once _his_.”

“You believe that brings loyalty above his loyalty to LightClan and the Tribe of Gathering?”

“He knew all about the corruption in the Great Gathering,” Birdclaw went on without missing a beat. “They all do, of course. Lightstar and Violetlight. But Moonlight would never have gone along with the status quo, with that corruption, if he had known the truth as I have.” The pause was dramatic, demanding a prompt from Sunleap.

“The truth?”

“The truth,” meowed a confident Birdclaw. “What if I told you that the Tribe of Gathering was now under the control of DarkClan?”

That hit Sunleap as profoundly as any blow ever could. “No! That’s not possible.” His mind whirled, needing a denial. He alone among the living LightClan cats had battled a DarkClan warrior, and that contest had cost his beloved mentor Moonlight his life. “The Council would be aware of it.”

“The dark side of the Force has clouded their vision, my friend,” Birdclaw calmly explained. “Many mediators are now under the influence of a DarkClan warrior called Darkshadow.”

“I don’t believe you,” Sunleap meowed flatly. He only wished he held that truth as solidly as he had just proclaimed.

“The leader of FieldClan was once in league with this Darkshadow,” Birdclaw explained, and given the events of moons before, it seemed a reasonable claim. “But he was betrayed by the DarkClan warrior. He came to me for help. He told me everything. LightClan’s Council would not believe him. I tried many times to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen to me. Once they sense DarkClan’s presence and realize their error, it will be too late. You must join with me, Sunleap, and together we will destroy DarkClan.”

It all seemed so reasonable, so logical, so attuned to the legend of Birdclaw as Sunleap had learned it. But beneath the silky tone was a feeling Sunleap had that flew in the face of that logic.

“I will _never_ join you, Birdclaw!”

The refined and regal tom gave a great and disappointed sigh, then turned to leave. “It may be difficult to secure your and your friend’s release,” he tossed back at Sunleap as he exited the chamber.

The calm beauty outside the leader’s den, with its view of the stream and clear pool just outside of the Gathering Place, masked the turmoil within. The word had passed, from Sunleap to Lightstar and the LightClan Council, and now from them to the leader, deputy, and medicine cat of the Tribe of Gathering, as well as some of the more influential mediators, that their Tribe was crumbling. The mood was both somber and frantic, every cat overwhelmed by a sense of despair and a need to act, frustrated by the apparent lack of options.

Lightstar, Violetlight, and Palelight represented LightClan, lending an air of calm against the nervous energy of Balefur and Oxear, the mediators of MountainClan and CanyonClan respectively, and Frog of the Tribe of Deep Waters. Sitting on a covered stone, Foxstar listened to it all with apparent despair, his deputy, Loudear, standing to one side, seeming on the verge of wailing.

Silence hung in the air for several long moments after Violetlight had finished his recounting of the report from Stone-place.

Lightstar, sitting wearily, glanced at Balefur, always a reliable and competent mediator, and gave a slight dip of his head. Catching the cue, the MountainClan tom began the discussion.

“ClayClan is preparing for war,” he meowed. “Given Sunleap of LightClan’s report, there can be no doubt of that.”

“If the report is accurate,” the fiery Oxear promptly responded.

“It is,” Violetlight assured him, and Oxear, a mediator inclined to action, accepted that. Indeed, Lightstar understood that the CanyonClan tom had only made the remark because he had wanted the LightClan cats to openly support the report, to impress upon all the others that the situation was on the brink of catastrophe.

“Birdclaw must have made a treaty with them,” Foxstar reasoned.

“We must stop them before they’re ready,” Balefur meowed.

Frog kept quiet in his place, eyes flicking between each speaker, hardly daring even to breathe. Robinleap stood guard beside him, equally concerned.

“Lightstar, is your Clan able to go to Stone-place and put an end to this?” Foxstar politely asked.

“Throughout all territories, hundreds of LightClan cats there are,” the diminutive leader replied. “To send on a special mission, only fifty are available.”

“With all due respect to your Clanmates, that doesn’t sound like enough,” Balefur commented.

“Through negotiation LightClan maintains peace,” Lightstar replied. “To start a war, we do not intend.”

His continued calm only seemed to push the frantic Oxear over the edge. “The debate is over!” he cried. “Now we _need_ that rogue army.”

Lightstar closed his eyes slowly, pained by the weight of reason behind the dreaded statement.

“Unfortunately, the debate is _not_ over,” Balefur argued. “The other mediators will never approve the use of the army before the Tribe of Shadows attacks. And by then, it will likely be too late.”

“This is a crisis,” Loudear dared interject. “The cats of the Great Gathering must Cast Stones to give Foxstar emergency responsibilities! He could then approve the use of the rogues.”

Foxstar reeled back at the suggestion, seeming profoundly shaken. “But what mediator would have the courage to propose such a radical suggestion?” he asked hesitantly.

“I will!” Oxear declared.

Beside him, Balefur gave a helpless purr and flicked his tail negatively. “They will not listen to you, I fear. Nor to me,” he added quickly, when Oxear fixed a glare on him. “We have spent too much time debating the philosophies of the departing Clans and arguing for action. The others will not see our call as anything more than overly alarmist. We need a voice of reason, one willing to reverse position, even, given the gravity of the situation.”

“If only Berryheart of ForestClan was here,” Loudear reasoned.

Without hesitation, the MountainClan tom offered, “In that case, what if Frog That Leaps From Stone made the proposal?”

“Me?” The Tribe tom gaped in surprise and horror.

“He speaks _for_ Berryheart,” the other went on, ignoring him. “By all understanding within the Great Gathering, Frog’s words are a reflection of Berryheart’s desires.”

“Yes!” Oxear yowled. “Let him make the proposal!”

Frog’s eyes darted frantically to each cat in the chamber in search of help in this, heart sinking as he found none. In that heartbeat, Lightstar felt most sorry for the ginger tom, caught in such a position that would see a result Berryheart stood so firmly against. Frog turned to Robinleap, who looked at him with resignation and fear.

Drawing a breath as he faced the rest again, the Tribe cat finally dipped his head in agreement, reluctance etched on every feature. Foxstar grimly dipped his head in return, and Lightstar sensed a strong fear from him, as if he knew that he was about to be thrust forward in the most dangerous position he and the Tribe of Gathering had ever known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave comments down below! I really rely on them to know how I'm doing.


	25. Unplanned Capture and Failed Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun and interesting chapter to write. (Genre-swapping is much harder than it looks)

The four traveling cats were quick to depart within heartbeats of the Thundersnake halting its movement, dodging startled and yowling Twolegs. As they raced out of den and into the stony lands outside, Skypaw cast out into the Force in the hopes of finding Sunleap’s location. It took only heartbeats though they felt like lifetimes, but the LightClan apprentice finally sensed his mentor’s Force-Energy. He led them quickly and carefully through the winding paths between the stones further into the heart of the Stone-Place.

They scaled a cliff and peered over the edge and across the open stretch before them.

“He’s that way,” Skypaw mewed quietly, gesturing with his tail.

Berryheart turned to look. “You see that cave straight that way?” she asked, lifting a paw. “It’d make a perfect place for a camp.”

“That’ll do it,” agreed Skypaw, and he guided them carefully down the cliffside, racing toward the cave. They slipped around behind it and approached a small hole in the side. When they reached it, they all paused to catch their breath.

“Look, whatever happens in there, follow _my_ lead,” Berryheart told Skypaw. “I’m not interested in getting into a war here. As a member of the Great Gathering, maybe I can find a diplomatic solution to this mess.”

Skypaw, who had so recently almost failed at a similar task, flinched at the memory.

“Trust me on this?” Berryheart added, and he knew that she had recognized the pain in his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he mewed, attempting to sound reassuring. “I’ve given up trying to argue with you.”

She dipped her head and turned to the other two toms. “Stay out here and keep watch,” the she-cat instructed them. Then, ignoring their protests, she and Skypaw entered the cave.

Soon after the pair had departed, Gold flicked an ear decisively, and he moved to enter the hole himself.

“My young loner friend, if they had needed our help, they would have asked for it,” Bluestripe explained to him. “You have a lot to learn about Clan cats.”

“I think they’re just being stubborn, so I’m going in anyway,” Gold mewed back at him and continued forward.

“For a loner, you seem to do an excessive amount of thinking,” the ForestClan tom countered. “Clan cats like me have a code to follow.”

Gold paused and turned back with his ears tilted. “So? What does that mean?”

“What does that _mean_?” Bluestripe echoed. “That means _you_ have to listen to _me_ about this stuff!”

Gold didn’t dignify that with a response. He just flicked his tail and started into the hole once more.

“Wait!” Bluestripe hissed. “Don’t you have any sense at all? The code says we’re supposed to follow orders!”

“I’m going to remind you that I am a loner not a Clan cat, and if I think following orders will get another cat killed, I have no problem ignoring them instead, mouse-brain!” was the discordant reply.

Bluestripe gaped, struggling to think as the other disappeared inside. He looked around wildly, torn between his code and his desire to not be left alone. With a low moan, he scrambled after Gold. “Wait for me!”

Skypaw and Berryheart slipped through the vast chamber at the end of the tunnel, their pawsteps silent on the stony ground. The place seemed deserted – too much so, Skypaw believed.

“Where _is_ everyone?” Berryheart hissed, unconsciously echoing his thoughts.

Skypaw raised his tail up to silence her, and he twisted his ears, sensing … something.

“Wait,” he mewed.

Skypaw shifted his wait and continued to listen, not just with his ears but with his sensitivity to the Force, as well. There was something here, something close. His instincts turned his eyes to the tops of the tall stones and eyes gleamed in the shadows back at him.

“Skypaw!” Berryheart cried, watching, too, as several cats seemed to grow right out of the stone, dropping down. They were muscular and lean, sinewy strong and not skinny, teeth bared and claws extended.

Skypaw’s Force-Crystal flashed. Turning fast, on pure instinct and reflex, he slashed out, right foreclaws burning deep into one cat lunging at him. The cat was thrown against one of the pillars, falling limp immediately, but another took its place, and then another, heading in boldly for the apprentice.

Skypaw lashed out right and left, his right foreclaws glowing as bright and burning a blue as the Force-Crystal attached to the same leg. Two more cats fell to his blows. “Run!” he yowled to Berryheart, but she was already moving, across the chamber and toward a distant opening. Skypaw raced after her, both knocking back any foes unfortunate enough to be in their path. They rushed through the opening – and nearly fell over the edge of a small cliff that extended out over a deep crevasse.

“Back,” Berryheart started to tell him, but even as they began to turn, the ground began to crumble under their paws. The approaching mass of cats blocked their path.

The ForestClan she-cat didn’t hesitate. She leapt out for the shortest fall, onto a longer pathway below.

“Berryheart!” Skypaw cried frantically. He leapt down, too, landing behind her on the pathway. And then the pursuers were all about them, lunging and snarling, and they had to work desperately to keep the attackers at bay.

“Great StarClan,” Bluestripe breathed, looking all about as he scanned the immense chamber. He and Gold hovered just outside of it, hidden from view. “I’ve never seen a cave so big!”

Gold nudged him hard. “We need to get above it so we can see where they went.”

“What are you –” Bluestripe began before noticing his companion already sneaking across the chamber. “Hey, wait for me!”

It took some time, but the pair managed to cross and scale the wall to a high pathway without being noticed. Careful not to nudge so much as a speck of dust out of place, the pair crept along it and into yet another vast chamber. They peered over the sides.

“Look there!” Gold hissed suddenly and Bluestripe turned to see his Clanmate and his LightClan friend get separated by scores of unfamiliar, and clearly unfriendly, cats. His fur lifted along his back.

He spun around, looking for a way to help without giving away their position. Then he saw it.

“Gold,” he hissed. “See those loose stones?” He pointed with his tail.

Gold turned immediately. “On it.” They raced silently over to the cracked and loosened stones.

Berryheart heard the rumbles above her and took off running. She dodged the falling stones with ease, though her pursuers weren’t so lucky. Left, then right she weaved, as gracefully as if she were back in Green Trees.

And then one of the enemy cats lunged at her, grazing her fur with his claws and throwing her off balance. She used just enough of her attention to shake him off momentarily, then flung herself directly beneath a falling rock and came out the other side just as the rock thundered down.

Right onto the pursuing tom, crushing him.

Berryheart didn’t even see it. Just as she appeared to reach safety, another cat blocked her path and moved to tackle her.

Berryheart wrestled valiantly, but the cat was too strong. In desperation, she finally managed to twist her paws around his and knock him off balance. Both plunged downward. The ForestClan she-cat reached out and caught the cavern wall with her claws, stopping her descent. The other missed and hit the ground below with a sickening thud. Berryheart recovered quickly and struggled to climb back up.

Skypaw, battling furiously with a crowd of the opposing cats, and all the while avoiding the falling debris, still somehow managed to see it all. “Berryheart!” he cried as he dodged a large rock that took out three of his opponents. There was no way he could get to her, he realized immediately, and another cave-dwelling creature, a large lizard, was climbing toward her. “Berryheart!”

And then he was fighting again, batting aside yet another of the persistent cats, watching all the while in horror as his love became aware of her approaching doom.

He fought wildly, beating the attackers away, scrambling desperately for Berryheart and calling out to her. He lunged for a lower ledge, sending dust and loose debris everywhere, then leapt to another, racing to reach Berryheart, who was scrabbling helplessly up the wall as she tried to keep ahead of the rapidly approaching lizard. He thought he might get to her, reaching into the Force for his next leap, but another enemy suddenly came over the side of the ledge with a slash that wrenched the Force-Crystal from his leg and sent him over the side.

Skypaw twisted himself in midair and caught ahold of the next ledge. As he scrambled to haul himself up, paw caught between a pair of stones, he could only watch in horror as his Force-Crystal fell past him and shattered on the rocks below.

And then he turned, realizing that in a heartbeat, the Force-Crystal would be the least of his losses.

“Berryheart!” he cried.

Far above, Bluestripe and Gold were clawing at a long, glistening rock hanging from an overhang slightly above and just to one side of the pathway they were on. The pair worked frantically, loosening the rock’s grip piece by piece.

At last, the rock gave a great crack and fell straight down. Berryheart lunged the last fox-length up and just cleared the edge when the rock struck the lizard directly, sending it down to the ground below. She barely had time to register relief – a group of cats pounced on her, overpowering and dragging the she-cat away by her scruff.

Skypaw, kicking away another of his own opponents, continued to struggle with the rocks trapping his paw. He could only watch in dismay as a larger group of cats ran up and surrounded him.

And then a muscular, grey tom with bright hazel eyes moved through the crowd to stand before him. “Don’t try anything, LightClan cat!” the tom ordered.

Berryheart sat on one side of the chamber, with Skypaw standing protectively behind her. Across the way sat Birdclaw, Slate positioned behind him. It was hardly a balanced meeting, though, for the chamber was lined by CliffClan cats.

“You are holding a LightClan warrior, Sunleap, and a ForestClan warrior, Redspot,” Berryheart meowed calmly, using the tone that had gotten her through so many negotiations within the Great Gathering. “I am formally requesting you turn them over to me now.”

“They have been found guilty of spying, young mediator, and while Redspot has been spared, Sunleap will be executed. In less than a sunrise, I believe.”

“He is a protector of the Tribe of Gathering,” she stated, her voice rising a bit. “You can’t do that.”

“We don’t recognize the Tribe of Gathering here,” Birdclaw replied. “However, if ForestClan were to join our alliance, I could easily hear your plea for clemency.”

“And if I don’t join your rebellion, I assume my own LightClan companion will also die.”

“I don’t wish to make you join our cause against your will, Berryheart, but you are a rational, honest representative of your Clan, and I assume you want to do what is in their best interest. Aren’t they all fed up with the corruption, the constant disagreements, the hypocrisy of it all? Aren’t you? Be honest.”

His question stung her, because she knew there was some truth in it. Just enough to give him a measure of credibility, enough for Birdclaw to entice so many Clans to join his alliance. And of course, the reality of the situation around her stung her even more deeply. She knew that she was right, that her ideals meant something, but how did that measure up against the fact that she would be killed for holding them? And even more than that, how did her precious ideals hold up against the fact that Skypaw would die for them, as well? She knew in that moment just how much she loved the LightClan apprentice, but knew, too, that she could not deny all that she had believed for all her life, not even for his life and hers. “The ideals are still alive, Birdclaw, even if the Tribe, itself, is failing.”

“You believe in the same ideals we believe in!” Birdclaw replied at once, seizing the apparent opening. “The same ideals we are striving to make prominent.”

“If what you say is true, you should stay within the Tribe of Gathering and help Foxstar put things right.”

“The Tribe’s leader means well, Berryheart, but he is mouse-brained,” Birdclaw mewed. “He has promised to weaken the mediators’ personal influences, but they are stronger than ever. The Tribe of Gathering cannot be fixed. It is time to start over. The code of the Great Gathering is merely mouse-whiskers. A game played at the expense of others. The time will come when that mob of greed called the Tribe of Gathering will lose even the pretext of freedom and the common Clan cat’s voice.”

Berryheart firmed herself against the assault, consciously reminding herself that he was exaggerating, playing things all in a light to give himself credibility. All she had to do to see through the lies, to see the sharpened claws beneath the temptation of the extended paw, was remind herself that he had taken two cats prisoner and meant to imprison one forever and see the other dead. Would the Tribe of Gathering have taken such a prisoner and set him up for execution? Would she?

“I cannot believe that,” she meowed with renewed determination. “I know of your arrangements with FieldClan, ClayClan, and the others, Birdclaw. What is happening here is the very thing you claim to be against! I will not forsake all that I have honored and worked for, and betray the Tribe of Gathering.”

“Then you will betray your LightClan friends? Without your cooperation, I can do nothing to stop their deaths.”

“And in that statement lies the truth of your proposed improvement,” she stated flatly, holding firm against the turmoil and agony that was wracking her. In the silence that followed, Birdclaw’s staring expression went from that of a polite negotiator to an angry enemy, for just a heartbeat, before reverting to his usual calm and regal demeanor.

“And what about me?” Berryheart continued. “Am I to be killed, too?”

“ _I_ wouldn’t think of such an offense,” Birdclaw mewed. “But there _are_ cats who have a strong interest in your demise, Berryheart. It has nothing to do with Clan or Tribe discussions, I’m afraid. It’s purely personal, and they have already offered quite a bit to have you killed. I’m sure they will push hard to have you included in the executions. I’m sorry, but if you are not going to cooperate, I must turn you over to CliffClan for justice. Without your cooperation, I’ve done all I can for you.”

“ _Justice_ ,” Berryheart echoed incredulously, with a flick of her tail and a knowing gleam in her eyes. And then there was silence.

Birdclaw waited patiently for a few moments, then turned and dipped his head to Slate.

“Take them away!” the grey rogue ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my posting is likely going to be spotty for a bit due to massive house renovations combined with holiday prep. There will definitely be a chapter on Sundays, but the Wednesday posts will be few and far between.
> 
> Don't forget to leave comments down below!


	26. Grim Gatherings and Hasty Rescues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there! Just a few more to go.

Even before reaching the end of the tunnel, Violetlight sensed Lightstar’s great sadness. The LightClan leader was sitting on a ledge overlooking the Gathering chamber. Below, chaos ruled. Uproar and screeching, loud opinions and counter-opinions – the turmoil struck a profound chord in Violetlight, who understood Lightstar’s sadness, and shared it. This was the unified group of Clans and Tribes that he and his proud Clan were sworn to protect, though right now many of the mediators hardly seemed worthy of that protection.

Right there and then, all the faults of the Tribe of Gathering were laid bare to Violetlight, and to Lightstar, all of the bee-brained arguing that seemed to inevitably get in the way of true progress. This was the chaos that had created the Tribe of Shadows. This was what gave credence to otherwise bee-brained claims, and allowed the greediest Clans, like FieldClan, to exploit all others.

The tall LightClan deputy moved to the end of the ledge and sat down beside Lightstar. He kept silent, because there was no point. Their place was to observe and to fight in defense of the Tribe of Gathering however mouse-brained many of the mediators below them now appeared.

Violetlight and Lightstar watched the mediators yowling furiously at each other, claws and teeth all bared. At the ledge in the center, Loudear stood anxiously with his tail held high, glancing about and calling for order.

Finally, after many long heartbeats, the noise died away.

“Order! Order!” Loudear repeated many times, obviously trying to ensure that things did not spiral out of control once again.

Foxstar moved front and center, and cast his gaze all about the chamber, meeting many eyes and trying hard to convey the gravity of the moment.

“In the regrettable absence of Berryheart of ForestClan,” he meowed at length, his voice slow and precise, “the Tribe of Gathering recognizes the mediator of the Tribe of Deep Waters, Frog That Leaps From Stone.”

Violetlight looked at Lightstar, who closed his eyes against the ensuing onslaught of praise and mockery, seemingly equal in strength. Every cat here knew what was coming, and the weight of it threatened to rip the Great Gathering apart.

Violetlight looked back down and finally spotted Frog, climbing slowly atop the perch normally used by Berryheart.

“Mediators!” Frog called, then his voice faltered a bit in hesitation.

The mockery grew louder, almost as deafening as the arguing.

 _Stay strong, Frog,_ Violetlight thought, looking down at the Tribe cat, whose eyes held guilt and shame for what he was about to do.

“Order!” Loudear yowled from the central ledge. “The Tribe of Gathering _will_ accord the representative the courtesy of a hearing!”

The others quieted, and Loudear signaled to Frog, who was by this time digging his claws deeply into his perch.

“In response to the direct threat to the Tribe of Gathering and all assembled Clans and Tribes,” the tom began, forcing his voice to remain clear and direct, “me propose that the cats of the Great Gathering give immediate emergency duties to the leader of the Tribe Gathering.”

There came a brief silence as every cat turned to look at every other. Gradually, calls of agreement began, and when the protests erupted from opposing groups, those cries grew even louder, soon drowning out the opposition. Though she wasn’t even present, it was Berryheart who had done this, Violetlight understood. All the moons she had worked to win the trust of others had led to this crucial victory. If any other than a representative of ForestClan, a voice speaking for Berryheart, had suggested such a drastic measure, then the debate would never have been so cleanly decided. But since she had apparently thrown in with the other side on the debate for the creation of an army, so, too, did many of those who had originally followed her lead in opposing that army.

The noise went on for many heartbeats, and while the protests died away, the praise only gained momentum. Finally, Foxstar raised his tail, asking for quiet.

“It is with great reluctance that I have agreed to this calling,” Foxstar began. “I love freedom – I love the Tribe of Gathering. I am mild by nature and do not desire to see the destruction of what we have chosen to build together. The power you give me I will lay down as soon as this crisis has abated. I promise you. And as my first act with this new authority, I will create a grand army to counter the increasing threats of the Tribe of Shadows.”

“It is done, then,” Violetlight mewed to Lightstar, and the small tom dipped his head grimly. “I will take what cats we have left and go to Stone-Place to help Sunleap.”

“And visit, I will, the cats of the Tribe of White Waters and see this army they have created for the Tribe of Gathering,” Lightstar replied.

Together, the two LightClan toms walked away from the Gathering chamber.

It was a miracle that they hadn’t been caught yet. That was the main thought running through Bluestripe’s mind as he and Gold crept along yet another tunnel, searching for their captured friends. In the time they’d been sneaking around, sometimes barely avoiding notice, they’d learned almost every path in and out of the cave, which they now knew was home to CliffClan and, now, the Tribe of Shadows. 

Nearly a moon had passed before they overheard anything useful to them.

“The last tracking patrol should be back in two sunrises,” a CliffClan she-cat was commenting to a Clanmate.

“Finally!” he replied. “So it should be happening the following sunhigh, then. It took long enough for the patrols to find creatures for it.”

“It should be the best Death-Gathering yet! After all, how often do we get to watch _three_ instead of just one?”

The toms on the hidden ledge high above exchanged looks of dismay. The moment the CliffClan cats disappeared around a corner, Gold and Bluestripe slipped away themselves.

“Three sunrises,” the ForestClan warrior breathed. “We don’t have much time, Gold.”

“But we still don’t know where they’re being kept.” Gold closed his eyes in concentration. His eyes suddenly flew open. “Wait. They have _four_ prisoners, right?”

Bluestripe’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Berryheart, Skypaw, Sunleap, and Redspot. But I don’t see …” His voice trailed off and his eyes widened.

Gold dipped his head. “They’re only going to kill three. And I’d stand to wager those three are being kept in a separate location from the fourth, likely under heavier guard. Which means –”

“– the fourth prisoner could likely be reached _and_ know where the others are,” Bluestripe finished.

“Exactly.” Gold stood up. “Let’s find them!”

It resembled any other Clan meeting place, a large chamber with a ledge at the front for the leader to stand on, with plenty of space for the rest of the Clan. Roachstar, CliffClan’s leader, presided over the meeting, a trial, with his deputy, Sunclaw, sitting below him, but clearly there would be no possibility of open-mindedness. Berryheart recognized representatives of the Clans that had separated from the Tribe of Gathering, forming the Tribe of Shadows.

She watched them carefully, noting the visceral hatred in their eyes. This was no hearing, no trial. It was a proclamation of hatred, and nothing more.

And so Berryheart was hardly surprised when Roachstar stepped forward and announced, “You have been accused and found guilty of spying for the Tribe of Gathering.”

 _So much for evidence,_ Berryheart thought.

“Do you have anything to say before your sentence is announced?” Sunclaw asked.

Unshaken, the cool ForestClan she-cat stared the CliffClan leader straight in the eye. “You are committing an act of war, Roachstar. I hope you are prepared for the consequences.”

The tom purred in amusement. “The Tribe of Shadows has an army of many Clans, Berryheart. Of course we’re prepared! What does your precious Tribe of Gathering have, hmm?”

“Get on with it!” came to voice of Newtstar from the side. “Announce the sentence. I want to see her suffer.”

Berryheart only flicked an ear. All this because she had foiled the FieldClan leader’s plans to exploit her Clan’s territory when she was Forestspeaker. All this because she hadn’t rolled over before the power of Newtstar and his warriors. And to think she had agreed to mercy for FieldClan after their defeat at Green Trees!

“Your other LightClan friend is waiting for you, she-cat. In three sunrises, at sunhigh, you and they will meet your death,” Roachstar told her, and he waved his tail to the guards. “Take her to the Waiting Place!”

At the back of the chamber, the young tom soaked it all in and looked up at his father. “They’re going to feed them to the collected beasts, aren’t they?” Blue asked.

Slate looked down at his eager son and purred. “Yes, Blue.” He had many times told Blue stories of CliffClan’s Death-Gatherings.

“Oh, I hope they have an adder,” mewed Blue mater-of-factly. “I want to see if it’s as powerful as I’ve heard.”

Slate just dipped his head, amused that his son was already so interested in such things, and glad for the dispassion in his tone. Blue was being strictly pragmatic here, even in the face of the deaths of three cats. He was taking the entire scenario with the cool and collected pragmatism that would allow him to survive in the harsh wilderness.

He was a good learner.

Bluestripe and Gold both breathed sighs of relief when, less than a sunrise after hearing about the upcoming Death-Gathering, they found the least-guarded prisoner.

“Oh, Redspot,” Bluestripe mewed mournfully.

His Clanmate was in rough shape. Her pelt was dusty and clumps of fur were only just starting to grow back in uneven patches. There was one pair of guards near the tangled mass of silverthorn trapping her, but that was all.

“So what’s the plan?” Bluestripe asked quietly.

Gold looked around the chamber carefully. “I’ve got one but it’s mouse-brained.”

Bluestripe looked at him. “I’ll take anything.”

Gold dipped his head. “I’m going to lure the guards out and as soon as they leave, you get your Clanmate out.”

“What –” 

Gold was slipping out of the tunnel before Bluestripe could protest. The ForestClan tom’s paws trembled as he waited anxiously. _StarClan, please don’t let him get caught,_ he thought.

Gold crept silently along the wall, half an eye on the guards as he slipped out of the chamber unnoticed. The loner quickly scanned the walls outside, ensuring there were no other cats nearby, before turning back to the chamber entrance. He took a deep breath, then scrambled up above the entrance, knocking some stones loose as he did.

Bluestripe watched the guards alert to something outside and hurry to investigate. He was just as quick to approach the silverthorn prison. “Redspot,” he hissed.

The she-cat blinked and turned to stare. “Bluestripe? What are you doing here?”

“Getting you out, of course.” He dug around under the silverthorn and, after a heartbeat, Redspot did the same from her side. It felt like moons before the hole was large enough for Redspot to try slipping through. Bluestripe glanced repeatedly at the entrance, expecting the guards to return at any moment.

The sound of pawsteps made the pair freeze. Gold bolted in. “I’ve got them chasing their tails, but we don’t have much time.”

Just then, Redspot managed to crawl out. “Well then, let’s get moving,” she mewed decisively.

The toms were quick to agree and together they slipped back into the tunnel, gone before the CliffClan cats returned.


	27. Love and Survival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, here's the action! Or the start of it, anyway.

The small chamber was dark and fittingly gloomy, and quiet, except for the occasional echo of voices from the tunnel outside. A pile of silverthorn branches woven into stones blocked the entrance. Skypaw and Berryheart had been shoved unceremoniously inside to wait for the Death-Gathering.

Berryheart looked over at Skypaw, the young tom facing the entrance, his ears and head lowered. She padded over and sat alongside him. “Don’t be afraid,” she mewed quietly.

He gave her a troubled look. “I’m not,” he replied, his voice thick and soft. “I’m just …” The young tom sighed heavily. “I had one task and I failed it. I am sorry that I brought you into this danger.”

She gazed back with genuine calm. “I’m not afraid to die. I’m afraid of dying without telling you the truth.”

“What are you talking about?”

Berryheart’s eyes were full of more warmth than Skypaw thought possible. “I love you,” she mewed, the truth of it in her eyes and voice.

Skypaw blinked. “You love me?” he asked, voice trembling. “I thought we decided not to fall in love. That we would be forced to live a lie. That it would destroy our lives.” But her admission had brought a wash of contentment over him that overpowered the lingering fear.

“I think our lives are about to be destroyed anyway,” Berryheart replied. “I can’t explain what I feel for you. I can’t control it – and now I don’t care. I truly, deeply love you, and I want you to know that, whatever happens.”

Berryheart leaned forward and tucked her head beneath his chin, and Skypaw placed a paw over hers as their tails twined together. The sound of their combined purrs filled the chamber, telling what they both realized should have told each other before, that mocked their false heroics in denying the feelings they’d had for each other all along.

At sunhigh, the pair was led out of the chamber and into a vast gorge. They blinked and winced at the blinding sunlight as they looked around.

Along the different ledges high above the ground were many, many cats, all eager for a glimpse of what would happen here. Eight tall stones stood at the center of the gorge, the same vines used by LightClan cats twined tightly around the tops and bases with a strange Twoleg-thing similar to a kittypet’s collar twisted between each pair of vines. One held a familiar figure.

“Sunleap!” Skypaw cried as he was shoved toward the stone beside his mentor and the collar-thing was tangled about his neck, behind his forelegs, and over his shoulders, holding him in place.

“I thought you were supposed to stay in Green Trees,” Sunleap replied. Both he and Skypaw winced as Berryheart was similarly, roughly trapped in the mass of vines and collar-thing at the stone next to Skypaw. They saw her crouch a bit, defensively, in what seemed a futile resistance. What they didn’t see, though, was the resourceful Berryheart quietly digging at the place where the lower of the two vines was attached.

“We knew that it would take too long for help to arrive from the Gathering Place,” Skypaw explained. “So we decided to come and rescue you ourselves.”

“Good job!” came Sunleap’s quick and sarcastic reply. 

Despite the tightness of their binds, the trio could still turn a bit side to side and so all three were able to watch the arrival of the high-ranking cats of the Tribe of Shadows and of CliffClan – faces they had come to know all too well.

“The cats you see before you have been found guilty of meddling in the affairs of our Clan,” announced the CliffClan deputy, Sunclaw. “Their sentence of death is to be carried out here at this Death-Gathering immediately!”

The yowls of excitement deafened the doomed trio.

“They like their Death-Gatherings,” Sunleap meowed dryly.

At the Highest Ledge, Sunclaw gave way to Roachstar, who lifted his tail to signal for quiet. “I have decided on an especially entertaining Death-Gathering this sunhigh,” he announced, to more appreciative yowling. “Which creature would be most suited to carry out the execution of such distinguished prisoners? I asked myself this over and over, and for a full sunrise, could find no answer.

“And finally, I chose –” He paused dramatically and the crowd hushed. “– a dog!” At the side of the gorge, a thicket of silverthorn branches was pulled away and out stepped a huge dog with massive shoulders, a long muzzle, and a Twoleg-thing similar to the ones holding the three prisoners wrapped about its neck and chest. The dog was as tall as a coyote and its behavior was almost foxlike.

After the cries of excitement died away, Roachstar surprised the crowd by announcing, “A gorge-lizard!” Another thicket was removed and a lizard like the ones that had attacked Sunleap and Berryheart crawled out. Its long tongue flicked out from a narrow snout between many rows of sharp teeth.

Before the surprised crowd could erupt again, Roachstar yowled, “And an adder!” and a third thicket was cleared and the final creature emerged. The adder was nearly silent as it slithered out and rose into the air, pausing a bit as it did. Larger than most adders, the sight was enough to send a shiver down the spine of any cat.

Adders seemed to be the true crowd-pleaser, especially to Slate’s young son, sitting on the Highest Ledge with the high-ranking cats. Blue’s eyes gleamed and he began reciting all that he had heard of the deadly creature’s exploits.

“Well, this should be fun – for _them_ at least,” lamented Sunleap, watching the frenzy mounting around him.

“What?” Skypaw asked, alarmed.

“Never mind,” Sunleap replied. “You ready for the fight?”

“The fight?” Skypaw asked skeptically, looking down and behind at the vines holding him, then back at the three creatures, which had been milling about, and only now seemed to take note that prey was available.

“You want to give the crowd a proper show, don’t you?” Sunleap asked. “You take the one on the right. I’ll take the one on the left.”

“What about Berryheart?” The two turned to discover that their clever companion had already dug out the vine at the stone’s base, and had spun herself about, facing the tall stone. She climbed right up the stone, then started trying to free herself of the collar-thing.

“She seems to be on top of things,” Sunleap commented wryly.

Skypaw looked back in time to react to the charge of the dog. Acting purely on reflex, the young LightClan apprentice jumped to one side, and the dog flew past him, slamming its shoulder into the rock as it turned. Seeing an opportunity, Skypaw sunk his claws into the dog’s collar-thing. The dog twisted leapt about, tearing the vines free of the stone, and they were off, the dog bucking and Skypaw holding on for dear life. He climbed carefully up onto the writhing dog’s back, then reached deep into the Force and into the dog’s mind.

After spending so long here, Bluestripe and Gold had little trouble guiding Redspot through the maze of tunnels and chambers in the vast cavern. They moved carefully to avoid detection as they made their way outside.

There were hardly any enemy cats about the cave, anyway, though, and the trio thought they knew why. They were fully, painfully, aware of the Death-Gathering happening right then. And the identities of the unfortunate cats at the center of it.

Once outside, the three cats paused to catch their breath. As Gold looked around, he noticed something just behind a group of rocks.

“Hey,” he hissed. “Look there! Are those cats?”

The ForestClan cats spun around to look. “Those are LightClan cats!” Redspot replied, hope filling her voice. “I recognize their deputy, Violetlight. They must be here to rescue Sunleap and the others!”

Bluestripe agreed and scrambled toward them. “Come on!”

The LightClan cats were alerted quickly to their presence, but held back at a wave of Violetlight’s tail. He recognized the ForestClan cats and stepped forward to meet them, his violet Force-Crystal glittering in the sun.

“I would ask why you are here,” the tall LightClan tom mewed, “but I can probably guess.” He turned his gaze on Gold. “And you are?”

The yellow tom lifted his chin. “I’m called Gold. Skypaw is my brother.”

“Ah. A loner, then.”

Gold dipped his head, not the least bit shamed by this. “Are you here to help?”

“Indeed,” was the reply.

Bluestripe stepped forward to meet Violetlight’s eyes. “We know where they are right now.”

Violetlight turned to his Clanmates and beckoned to them, then turned back to Bluestripe. “Show us.”

Sunleap found himself face to face with the adder. The creature reared up high and came straight at him. When Sunleap dodged to one side, the adder slammed into the ground, freeing the vine trapped below. Half-freed by the beat’s fury, Sunleap leapt to avoid a second blow that snapped the second vine. The LightClan warrior scrambled away, desperate to keep ahead of the adder and its deadly venom as it turned to pursue the fleeing cat.

Atop her stone perch, Berryheart worked frantically to rid herself of the collar-thing. But already the gorge-lizard was climbing up to swipe at her with its deadly claws. She dodged, but the gorge-lizard tried again.

Berryheart slashed its nose with her own claws.

The beast didn’t stop, its claws tearing into the stone as it climbed. Then, with a sudden burst, it leapt up to the top and reared before Berryheart with a snarling hiss.

The crowd hushed, sensing the first kill.

As the gorge-lizard slashed, Berryheart spun the other way, and while the claws grazed her back and sliced the collar-thing, she struck out with her hind paws, delivering a solid blow to the beast’s exposed stomach. The gorge-lizard fell back down the stone. Berryheart leapt out and back, away from the creature and to the side, and let the vine tug her back, the more tightly twisted vine sending her into a spin about the stone. She tucked her legs as she spun, then struck out with all four paws, knocking the gorge-lizard to the ground.

Hardly pausing to consider the beast further, the she-cat scrambled back up, working furiously to finish freeing herself.

The crowd gasped as one.

“She can’t do that!” cried Newtstar on the Highest Ledge.

“Wow!” Blue yowled in obvious admiration. Slate rested his tail on his son’s shoulder, enjoying the show every bit as much as Blue.

“The gorge-lizard will have her, Newtstar,” Roachstar assured the trembling FieldClan leader.

Newtstar remained standing, as did every other cat around the gorge. The crowd gasped again as Sunleap ran around one of the tall stones, then spun around and slapped a paw-sized rock at the furious adder’s head. The beast hissed in pain and reared back.

Across the way, Berryheart wriggled what was left of the collar-thing off as the gorge-lizard regained its feet and began to stalk back toward the stone. Finally, she was free.

But the gorge-lizard was right below her, looking up, drool spilling from its maw, death in its eyes. It crouched, ready to rush up the stone.

And got attacked by Skypaw and the dog he was riding, the dog grabbing it in its teeth and crushing the life from it.

“You okay?” Skypaw called.

“Sure.”

“Jump on!” he cried, and Berryheart was already moving, leaping down from her perch to fall into place right behind Skypaw.

They passed the wounded and furious adder next, and Sunleap was quick to leap up behind Berryheart.

Blue squeaked in glee again, as did many of the onlookers.

Newtstar, though, wasn’t quite as pleased. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be!” he snarled at Birdclaw. “She’s supposed to be dead by now!”

“Patience,” the calm tom replied.

“No!” he howled back at him. “Slate, finish her off!”

Slate turned an amused look Newtstar’s way, and dipped his head knowingly as Birdclaw motioned for him to stay put.

“Patience, Newtstar,” Birdclaw mewed to the fuming Newtstar. “She will die.”

Even as he uttered this, even as Newtstar seemed about to explode with rage, the dark grey tom motioned back to the center of the gorge, and the FieldClan leader turned to see a group of rogues, warriors of the Tribe of Shadows now, rush out from another tunnel. They surrounded the dog and the three prisoners and dropped into battle-positions, giving Skypaw no choice but to hold the dog back.

“You see?” Birdclaw calmly asked.

His expression changed, though, just for a heartbeat, and a familiar hum began right behind him. He glanced to his right quickly, to see a paw with glowing violet claws pressing down on the back of Slate’s neck, then turned slowly to regard the cat they were attached to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope all of you had a wonderful holiday despite all of this year's, um... weirdness, whatever holiday you celebrate. Hopefully the next chapter will be up by Wednesday.


	28. Aggressive Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's Eve to you all! Last chapter of the year. Enjoy!

If Birdclaw felt anything about the new arrival, he didn’t show it.

“Violetlight,” he mewed with his typical charm. “How pleasant of you to join us! You’re just in time for the moment of truth. I would think those two Clanmates of yours could use a little more training.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Birdclaw,” Violetlight coolly replied. “This Gathering’s over.” With that, the LightClan deputy lifted his tail and waved it back and forth twice, the prearranged signal, never lifting his paw from Slate.

All about the gorge came a sudden and synchronized flash of lights as fifty LightClan cats activated their Force-Crystals.

The crowd went perfectly silent.

After a heartbeat of reflection, Birdclaw turned about just a bit, looking back at Violetlight. “Brave, but mouse-brained, my old LightClan friend. You’re impossibly outnumbered.”

“I don’t think so,” Violetlight countered. “CliffClan cats aren’t truly warriors. One LightClan cat has to be worth ten CliffClan cats.”

Birdclaw glanced about the gorge, a purr building in his throat. “It wasn’t CliffClan I was thinking about. How well do you think one LightClan cat will match up against a hundred warriors of the Tribe of Shadows?”

He had timed it perfectly. Just as he finished, a large group of Tribe warriors, most former rogues, raced out of the tunnel behind Violetlight, teeth and claws bared. The LightClan tom reacted at once, spinning about to meet his attackers. He knew that these few were the least of his troubles, though, for as he glanced around he saw the source of Birdclaw’s confidence: hundreds of warriors from the Tribe of Shadows streamed from every entrance into the gorge.

The fight began immediately, the whole gorge filled with angry yowls and screeches, LightClan cats leaping and spinning, trying to close into tight defensive groups, their glowing claws flashing through clouds of dust. CliffClan cats scrambled all about, some trying to attack the intruders – and dying for their trouble – others just scrambling to get out of the way of the fighting.

Violetlight spun about, recognizing that his most dangerous enemies were behind him. He faced Slate – who lunged with deadly intent.

Sharp claws reached out for the LightClan deputy. With both Birdclaw and the grey rogue so close, and in such a vulnerable position, Violetlight just leapt away, lifting himself with the Force to fly out from the ledge and land at the bottom of the gorge. He didn’t bother shaking the dust from his fur before racing toward his Clanmates.

All around him, the fight intensified, with LightClan and CliffClan cats battling each other on the ledges above, and many other LightClan cats rushing down to the bottom of the gorge to join the battle against the largest concentration of Tribe warriors. Violetlight winced when he spotted Sunleap, Skypaw, and Berryheart sent flying into the air by the terrified and bucking dog. He motioned to other Clanmates, but needn’t have, for those closest were already rushing toward their vulnerable friends, throwing spare Force-Crystals to Skypaw and Sunleap.

When those two activated the Force-Crystals, Skypaw’s green and Sunleap’s blue, and Berryheart leapt to her paws, claws extended and ready for battle, Violetlight breathed a bit easier.

But only for a heartbeat. Then the LightClan deputy was a blur of motion once more, slashing with glowing claws at the multitude of enemy cats. He joined Sunleap near the center of the gorge soon after, and back-to-back, they went into action moving into a crowd of Tribe warriors, taking down several with well-aimed blows, then charging through, turning in unison as they went. Sunleap went at one warrior with a forepaw raised high, but when that warrior shifted his stance appropriately, the two LightClan cats turned about, Violetlight coming around with a low slash, raking his glowing claws against the other’s exposed belly.

Behind Violetlight and Sunleap, Skypaw and Berryheart fought in a similar back-to-back posture, with Skypaw working in a mostly defensive manner, deflecting every cat seeking to strike at him and at Berryheart, while she picked her strikes carefully, taking down enemy after enemy after enemy.

But despite all gallant efforts, despite the mounds of slaughtered enemies and the numbers of fleeing CliffClan cats, the outcome was beginning to show clearly, as the LightClan cats were being pushed back by sheer numbers. The general retreat flowed toward the bottom of the gorge, though that area would provide little respite. In addition to the battling cats, the dog and adder rushed about crazily, destroying everything in their path.

Into this maelstrom rushed Gold, Bluestripe, and Redspot, the trio joining the battle in a flurry of claws and teeth. They took down one enemy after another as they fought their way toward their friends and allies.

Across the way, Gold finally spotted Skypaw. Relief and determination surged through him, adding strength to his blows as he made his way forward.

It was time for improvisation, too wild a scene for coordinated and predetermined movements.

Just the kind of fight in which Berryheart excelled. Cutting down cats at every step, she rushed to a large, flat boulder to one side of the gorge and scrambled atop it.

Right behind her came Skypaw, a light brown blur of motion, knocking aside even more cats. He leapt up onto the boulder and Berryheart kicked away a Tribe warrior attempting to follow.

They struck blow after blow from their perch, dropping any mouse-brained enough to attack them.

“You call this diplomacy?” meowed Skypaw, sending another cat flying.

Berryheart managed a purr and yowled back, “No, I call it ‘aggressive negotiations’!”

Bluestripe and Redspot struggled to keep up with Gold, the loner clawing his way through the crowd with reckless abandon, determined to get to the boulder his brother was fighting on. The ForestClan warriors were dismayed at the sight of the seemingly endless Tribe warriors streaming toward them.

“We won’t make it!” Bluestripe cried, alarm in his voice.

Gold’s eyes glinted fiercely. “He’s my brother,” he replied. “No cat can keep us apart for long!”

A huge group of enemy cats lunged at them and just when it seemed as though Bluestripe’s fears would be realized, Streamlight, one of the LightClan sages, rushed in to help. With a wave of his tail, the powerful tom slammed the Tribe cats with a Force shove, sending them flying. Next, the agile sage did a spinning leap and with a downward slash of glowing green claws, took down another cat attempting to sneak up behind them.

Gold took quick advantage of the opening, darting through immediately with the ForestClan warriors close behind. “Skypaw!” he yowled.

Skypaw glanced over. “Gold! You’re alright!”

The loner leapt up to join Berryheart and Skypaw. Bluestripe and Redspot clambered up quickly and the group turned as one back to the battle.

No number of enemies could hope to separate Violetlight and Sunleap, so perfect were their movements, so attuned were they to each other. But the sheer bulk of the dog was too much even for the most skilled LightClan cats, and when the furious beast charged at the two Clanmates, they had no choice but to dive apart.

The dog followed Violetlight, and he had to slash wildly to fend it off. He did manage to drive it back, but was struck by a thrashing paw and thrown to one side. He regained his footing and shook his head to clear it only to see a grey blur rushing toward him. 

Violetlight reached into the Force and rushed forward, moving like lightning to counter Slate’s first attack. With the second attempt, Violetlight was more in control, and his responding strike forced the rogue back. But Slate was quick to recover, diving sidelong and coming around ready to launch himself at the LightClan deputy.

He was stopped by the dog. Unable to distinguish friend from foe, the dog bore down on Slate. He scored a couple of hits, but they hardly slowed the beast, and he was tossed away. The dog charged, trying to snap at him as he scrambled about desperately. Slate was fast, though. Every time he came around, he lashed out again, and again, his claws digging deep into the furious dog’s nose and neck.

Finally, the huge creature stumbled, and Slate tore his claws deeply through the dog’s throat. As the dog fell, Slate leapt to the far side, opposite Violetlight, as the beast collapsed.

The LightClan tom was on him immediately, right fore-claws glowing brightly. Slate leapt and dodged, trying to keep one step ahead of that deadly flurry and to occasionally swipe back at Violetlight.

The rogue was good, Violetlight had to admit. Very good, and more than once the LightClan tom had to scramble back desperately to avoid a deadly blow. He kept up his offensive flurry, though, keeping Slate on the defensive with sudden lunges and slashing cuts.

One misstep …

And then it happened, all of a sudden. Violetlight started to slash with his right fore-claws, cut it short and lunged to the right, lashing out with his left, non-glowing foreclaws. He spun a complete circuit, coming around to block a counterstrike, but there was no counterstrike forthcoming.

That left to right reversal had cleanly landed. Slate collapsed in the dirt, his throat torn wide open.

“Straight ahead,” Sunleap told himself as the adder came at him, its fangs extended.

He went left, then right, then sprang forward at the beast, coming around and over with his glowing claws lashing straight out, burning a line across the creature’s long body.

The adder dived forward, trying to twist itself around him, and the LightClan warrior leapt straight up as he connected. He came down on its back, landing lightly and slashing repeatedly, before leaping away once more.

“Straight ahead,” he told himself again as the enraged adder charged yet again.

Even injured as it was, the creature hardly slowed and the warrior had to throw himself to the ground to dodge a swift, venomous strike.

He twisted to the side and managed to slash out again, cutting a deep gash.

The adder hissed and swayed, finally slowing.

Sunleap rushed in and leapt and bit down, right below the head. He shook the creature wildly and flung it into a rock. He heard it collapse behind him, thrashing in its death throes, but he knew that battle was done and went back to work on the Tribe of Shadows warriors.

That larger fight seemed far from won, and far from winnable. Violetlight had finished with Slate by then, and to the other side, Skypaw, Berryheart, Gold, Bluestripe, and Redspot continued their perfect teamwork on the boulder. Each cat covering the others. But even with that, even with all the remaining LightClan cats fighting brilliantly in the center of the gorge, the Tribe of Shadows continued to press in, herding them all together in a hopeless position.

“I don’t know how much longer we can hold here,” Bluestripe meowed to the others.

Redspot sent another enemy flying and paused to draw a shaky breath. “He’s right,” she responded. “There are too many of them.”

Skypaw used the Force to send a group of warriors flying away from Berryheart. “Do we have a choice?” he asked.

None of them had an answer.

More LightClan cats went down under the sheer number of enemies. Less than half of them were still standing.

“Limited choices,” Palelight mewed to the exhausted and bloody Violetlight.

They were down to just over twenty, all herded together, and all about them stood line after line of Tribe warriors, ready to attack.

And then all movement stopped suddenly.

“Violetlight!” Birdclaw cried from his perch. His stance showed that he had truly enjoyed the spectacle of the battle. “You have fought gallantly. Worthy of recognition in LightClan’s history. Now it is finished.” He paused and looked all about, leading the gazes of the trapped cats to the rows and rows of enemies still poised to destroy them.

“Surrender,” Birdclaw ordered, “and your lives will be spared.”

“We will not become hostages for you to use as barter, Birdclaw,” Violetlight snarled without the slightest hesitation.

“Then I’m sorry, old friend,” Birdclaw replied, in a tone that didn’t sound at all sorry. “You will have to be destroyed.” He raised his tail and looked to his assembled army, prepared to give the signal.

But then Berryheart, exhausted, dirty, and bloody, raised her head to look at the top of the gorge and yowled, “Look!” All eyes turned up to see another army of cats appear at the edge of the cliff with Lightstar at the head.


	29. The Battle of Stone-place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is nigh! Two more to go!

Lightstar dipped his head to the survivors and lifted his tail. Hundreds of rogues thundered down the sides of the gorge, streaming into the center and crashing into the crowd of Tribe warriors in a dusty cloud.

“LightClan, move!” Violetlight cried, and the survivors rushed through the opening created by the newcomers to the side of the gorge, scrambling upward. Violetlight climbed up beside Lightstar as the rogue army moved to follow the survivors. The Tribe warriors froze with shock at the suddenness, then rushed for the tunnels.

Violetlight could hardly believe the incredible sight unfolding before him, as hundreds of rogues rushed toward the multitude of Tribe warriors racing out of the cavern. At his side, Lightstar continued to direct the battle. “More patrols to the left,” he instructed his signaler, who relayed it out to the patrol leaders. “Encircle them, we must, then divide.”

With the battle moved elsewhere, Blue finally found the opportunity to slip down into the center of the gorge. He called for his father repeatedly, rushing from pile of bodies to pile of bodies. He passed the dead adder, and then the dog, calling for Slate, but knowing what had happened, simply because his father, who was always there, wasn’t there.

And then he saw the crumpled form.

“Dad,” he breathed. His legs giving out beneath him, he dropped to his belly beside Slate’s still body.

Roachstar led Birdclaw and the others into the cavern and up to a ledge that overlooked CliffClan’s territory. And the battle happening within it.

Roachstar rushed to the side to confer with one of his warriors, then came back to Birdclaw and Newtstar, his expression fierce. “We are under attack!” he informed them.

“LightClan has amassed a huge army!” Newtstar cried.

“Where did they get them?” Birdclaw asked, sounding perplexed. “That doesn’t seem possible. How did they come up with an army so quickly?”

“We must send every available warrior into battle,” Newtstar demanded.

But Birdclaw, staring out at the battle, flicked his tail dismissively before Newtstar could begin to argue his reasoning. “There are too many,” he mewed, his voice full of resignation. “They will soon have us surrounded.”

Even as he announced this, the three winced as they saw a group of enemy cats shove a tall rock onto some of their warriors.

“This is not going well at all,” Newtstar admitted.

“Order a retreat,” meowed Roachstar, and he was trembling so forcefully that it seemed as if he might just fall over. “I am sending all of my warriors deep into the tunnels to hide!” He signaled to his deputy as he finished, and Sunclaw raced away to relay the order.

“We must get out of here before they break through!” Hawkfur cried, and Newtstar dipped his head in agreement.

“I’m going to the Gathering Place,” Birdclaw announced. “My friend will not let the Tribe of Gathering get away with this treachery.”

With a whisk of his tail, the former LightClan tom padded away from the ledge.

Sunleap, Skypaw, and Berryheart kept to the outer edges of the fight. Gold and Bluestripe had finally managed to convince the exhausted and battered Redspot to get her wounds tended and were watching over her elsewhere.

All around them, rogue warriors rushed across the battlefield, weaving their way and taking down group after group of Tribe warriors as they went.

“They’re good,” Sunleap remarked, and Skypaw agreed.

Their attention went right back to their own situation, then, as several Tribe warriors charged toward them. Skypaw glanced around and spotted a patrol of rogues on a ledge just above them.

“Push that rock over!” the young tom cried to them. Without hesitation, the patrol pushed at the large rock he’d indicated.

The rock fell with a loud thud and a cloud of dust. The Tribe cats weren’t swift enough to avoid being crushed.

“Good call!” Sunleap congratulated his apprentice before turning to the patrol. Skypaw blinked in surprise even as he felt his heart swell with joy and pride.

The Tribe of Shadows warriors were fierce opponents, but the rogues were fiercer still. Violetlight looked around, taking in the devastation not often seen by LightClan cats. He turned to Lightstar.

“Capture Birdclaw, we must,” Lightstar mewed, his calm and steady voice as strong as Violetlight could have asked for in that momentous moment. “If escape he does, he will rally more cats to his cause.”

Violetlight dipped his head grimly. “You five, follow me,” he ordered the rogues nearest to him, and the obedient were quick to do so. They rushed toward the battle, aiming for the cavern on the far side, but Lightstar did not follow.

The diminutive leader hurried for an outcropping of rocks overlooking the battle, moving as quickly as his short legs could carry him. The relatively safe outcropping was being used as both a command position and a healing area. Lightstar could hear the grumbling of Sunleap’s ForestClan traveling companion.

As soon as he arrived, an older rogue rushed to meet him. “Lightstar, all patrols are advancing swiftly.”

“Very good, very good,” Lightstar meowed. “Concentrate on clearing a path to the cavern.”

“Yes, Lightstar!”

The rogue ran off, organizing the remaining patrols as he went. Soon after, the patrols began picking their targets in a more coordinated manner, and the concentrated attacks succeeded where random strikes could not, taking down one enemy patrol after another.

From their new perch just above the main battle, Sunleap noticed five cats slipping away from the cavern and racing across the dusty plain toward a huge cliff in the distance. “Look! Over there!”

Skypaw narrowed his eyes. “It’s Birdclaw!” he cried.

Sunleap was already moving. “Come on!” Skypaw, Berryheart, and the patrol of rogues were quick to follow.

“We’re going to need some help,” Berryheart remarked.

“No, there’s no time,” replied Sunleap. “Skypaw and I can handle this.”

As they gained ground, the warriors following Birdclaw broke away suddenly, turning about and charging their pursuers. The rogues raced to meet them. Sunleap shifted to continue the pursuit with Skypaw and Berryheart close behind, leaving the rogues to deal with the Tribe warriors. Birdclaw increased his own speed and reached the cliff a tree-length ahead of them. He began climbing and the others noticed what appeared to be a tunnel halfway up the cliff. They started up after him. Birdclaw paused on a ledge and looked down, his eyes widening slightly as he saw them. His hind-paws struck at a smaller ledge that was little more than a pile of small stones stuck to the side of the cliff. It came loose and the debris rained down on the pursuers’ heads.

“Hold on!” Sunleap cried, flattening himself against the cliffside.

“Can’t think of a better choice!” Berryheart yowled back at him.

Sunleap managed a purr, then led them up to a nearby ledge. Moving to continue the ascent, a cry of alarm from Skypaw forced Sunleap’s gaze up in time to see another pile of stones sliding toward them. The LightClan toms had to dig their claws into the ledge to avoid being pushed off.

Berryheart wasn’t so fortunate.

One moment, she was beside Skypaw, and then she was gone, tumbling down with the stones.

“Berryheart!” Skypaw screeched. Everything seemed to be in slow-motion, and he couldn’t catch her, couldn’t reach out fast enough with his paw. Desperately, he dove into the Force, lashing out, slowing her descent.

Even so, she tumbled down and hit the dusty ground hard, and lay very still.

“Berryheart!” Skypaw cried again, and then he scrambled to the edge of the ledge, only slightly mollified by the sight of her sides moving steady with her breathing. He turned to descend.

Sunleap stood before him, blocking his path. “Don’t let your personal feelings get in the way,” he reminded his apprentice, his voice steady and firm. “Now come on!”

Skypaw moved to go around him, “No! I have to help her!”

Sunleap blocked him again, and this time, his look was not so sympathetic. “Skypaw,” he meowed flatly, showing that there was no room for debate. “I can’t take Birdclaw alone. If we catch him, we can end this war right now. We have a task to do.”

“I don’t care!” Skypaw wailed at him, still trying to get around him, to go down to her.

“You’ll be exiled from LightClan,” Sunleap growled grimly, his lashing tail and flattened ears showing no room for any argument.

The blunt statement would have once been enough for Skypaw, but not now. “I can’t leave her,” he replied quietly.

“Come to your senses,” hissed the uncompromising Sunleap. “What do you think Berryheart would do if she were in your position?”

That struck the young tom hard, his tail drooping. “She would do her duty,” he admitted. As his mentor turned to continue the pursuit, Skypaw risked one last look back.

At long last, the battle began to slow. The Tribe of Shadows was now fleeing with the rogues chasing the stragglers off. Well-matched the two armies may have been in numbers, but the rogues were clearly the better fighters. With the embedded Starstone shards allowing for swifter passing of commands from the LightClan cats, the rogues could more easily adjust to different strategies at all places.

It didn’t take much longer for the patrols to start returning to the outcropping. The wounded cats were immediately tended to while the patrol leaders each gave their report to Lightstar. Gold moved from one cat to the next asking if any had seen Skypaw, and growing more troubled at each denial.

At the ledge overlooking the plain, and exhausted and dirty Violetlight joined Lightstar, the two sharing looks that combined hope for the present and fear for the future.

“You decided to bring them here,” Violetlight stated.

“Troubling, it is,” Lightstar replied, his green eyes slowly blinking. “Two paths were there open, and this one alone offered the return of so many LightClan cats.”

Violetlight dipped his head in approval of that choice, but Lightstar only looked at the devastation about him and blinked once more.


	30. Duels and Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter altogether for this fic. Last [long] chapter of this fic. Enjoy!

Sunleap scrabbled up the last few fox-lengths, pulling himself into the tunnel. Skypaw appeared behind him a heartbeat later, hardly pausing as he raced in after his mentor. 

They found Birdclaw inside a large chamber, standing near another tunnel on the far side. The chamber was empty save for a few tall, slender stones here and there near the edges. He turned to calmly face his pursuers.

“You’re going to face judgement for what you’ve done today, Birdclaw,” Skypaw told him, eyes flashing in determination. He felt an equally determined Sunleap lean close to his ear.

“We move in together,” Sunleap explained quietly. “You slowly on the –”

“Look out!” And Skypaw spun about and shoved the warrior away.

A burst of Force lightning, unknown to any in LightClan, shot out of Birdclaw’s suddenly extended paw. It struck the young LightClan apprentice and sent him flying across the chamber, to crash into a distant wall, where he slumped down, dazed.

“As you can see, my Force powers are far beyond yours,” Birdclaw meowed with complete confidence and calm.

“I don’t think so,” Sunleap countered, moving toward him in a measured and defensive manner, his borrowed blue Force-Crystal activated, right fore-claws glowing brightly.

Birdclaw purred and shifted to reveal a red Force-Crystal attached to his own right fore-leg. He activated it and his extended claws began to glow red.

Sunleap stepped slowly at first, then made a sudden rush, slashing with his glowing claws.

But with only a slight movement, glowing red claws caught blue, then lifted up, and Sunleap staggered off balance. With a slight shift, Birdclaw lunged straight ahead, and Sunleap had to throw himself backward. He lashed out as he did, trying to strike, but Birdclaw had already leapt back by then and had settled back into perfect defensive posture.

Against that posture, Sunleap’s sudden flurry of attacks seemed exaggerated and inefficient, for Birdclaw defeated each, one after another, with a slight parry dodge, seeming barely to move. Sunleap leapt and spun, slashing and lunging, but all of Birdclaw’s movements seemed far more efficient. He followed a single line, front and back, his paws shifting to keep him constantly in perfect balance as he retreated and lunged suddenly with devastating blows that had Sunleap stumbling backward.

“Why, Sunleap, you disappoint me,” the dark grey tom taunted. “Lightstar holds you in such high esteem.”

His mockery spurred Sunleap forward with another series of slashes and blows, but Birdclaw’s red claws angled left and then right, then up just enough to send Sunleap off balance. Sunleap had to retreat soon after, gasping for breath.

“Come, come, Sunleap,” Birdclaw mewed, eyes glittering wickedly. “Put me out of my misery.”

Sunleap steadied himself and shifted his weight, digging his claws into the ground, getting a better grip. Then he exploded into motion, coming on again fiercely, his right fore-claw flashing blue all about. He kept a better measure of his cuts this time, though, readjusting his stance often, turning a wide slash into a sudden lunge, and he soon had Birdclaw backing, the dark grey tom lashing out furiously to keep Sunleap at bay.

Sunleap pressed forward more forcefully, but Birdclaw continued to fend off the strikes, and then his momentum played out. He was too far forward, while Birdclaw remained in perfect balance, ready for a counterstrike.

And then it was Birdclaw suddenly pressing the attack, his glowing claws flashing as he struck again and again so quickly that most of Sunleap’s slashes hit nothing but air. Sunleap had to jump back, and then back again, and again, as those lunges moved ever closer to hitting home.

Birdclaw stepped forward suddenly, slashing low for Sunleap’s hindquarters. Down went glowing blue claws to intercept, but to Sunleap’s horror, Birdclaw changed directions, moving up high and across the other way. Sunleap couldn’t readjust to block, nor could he shift back fast enough.

Birdclaw’s right fore-claws burned deep into his left shoulder, and as he lurched back, Birdclaw pulled back and slashed at his initial target, digging into Sunleap’s right hindquarters. The LightClan warrior stumbled back, tripping and crashing hard against the wall, but even as he fell, Birdclaw was there, glowing red claws tearing away his blue Force-Crystal with a sudden jerk and sending it rolling across the ground.

“And so it ends,” Birdclaw meowed to the helpless Sunleap. With a flick of his tail, the elegant tom raised his glowing claws up high, then brought them down hard at Sunleap’s head.

A right forepaw, claws extended and glowing bright green, cut in under the blow, stopping it with a shower of sparks.

The dark grey tom reacted immediately, leaping back and turning to face Skypaw. “That’s brave of you, young tom, but mouse-brained. I would’ve thought you’d have learned from your mentor’s misfortune.”

“I’m a slow learner,” Skypaw replied coolly, and he lunged then, so suddenly, so powerfully, his right fore-claws burning so brightly and moved with such speed that his paw seemed almost encased in green light.

For the first time, Birdclaw lost his little confident gleam. He had to work furiously to keep Skypaw at bay, dodging more than blocking. He tried to step out to the side, but stopped as if he had hit a wall, and his eyes widened a bit when he realized that this young apprentice, in the midst of that assault, had used the Force to block his exit.

“You have unusual powers, young apprentice,” he sincerely congratulated. The gleam returned to his eyes, and gradually Birdclaw put himself back on even footing with Skypaw, trading lunge for slash and forcing Skypaw to dodge and block as often as he tried to strike.

“Unusual,” Birdclaw commented again. “But not enough to save you this time!” He came on hard, thinking to drive Skypaw back and off balance as he had driven Sunleap back. But Skypaw held his ground stubbornly, his green claws flashing left, right, and down so forcefully and precisely that none of Birdclaw’s attacks got through.

Off to the side, Sunleap understood that it couldn’t hold. Skypaw was expending many times the energy of the efficient Birdclaw, and as soon as he tired…

Sunleap knew that he had to do something. He tried to come forward, but winced and fell back, in too much pain. As he collected his thoughts, he reached out with the Force instead, grabbing at the blue Force-Crystal and pulling it into his grasp. “Skypaw!” he called, and he kicked the Force-Crystal to the young tom. Skypaw reached out with the Force and attached it to his left foreleg without ever breaking the flow of his fighting, turning about and activating it immediately, causing his left fore-claws to suddenly glow bright blue.

Sunleap watched in admiration as Skypaw fought with perfect balance, blue and green light blazing harmoniously as he struck with blinding speed and precision.

And he watched with similar feelings Birdclaw battling with a single set of glowing red claws, flashing ahead and back with equal precision, picking off attack after attack and even countering once or twice to interrupt the flow of Skypaw’s barrage.

Sunleap’s heart leapt in hope as Skypaw charged forward suddenly, bringing his right fore-claws down at his opponent. Sunleap understood immediately, even before he noted Skypaw’s left shifting to strike from the other direction – the blow would push Birdclaw’s red claws out of the way, clearing the path for the victorious strike!

But Birdclaw pulled back impossibly fast, and Skypaw’s green claws struck nothing but air.

Birdclaw lunged straight ahead, intercepting the apprentice’s left claws. The older tom caught the vines that held the blue Force-Crystal, then twisted suddenly, pulling it away from Skypaw’s leg. Birdclaw went on the offensive immediately, driving the surprised and off-balance Skypaw back.

Skypaw fought hard to regain his fighting posture, but Birdclaw was relentless, lunging repeatedly, keeping the young apprentice stumbling backward.

“No!” Sunleap cried.

Birdclaw shifted slightly and slashed, not at Skypaw’s green claws, but the apprentice’s face, dragging burning red claws across his right eye. Pain blazed through Skypaw’s face as red claws tore a line above his eye and down along his cheek.

As he fell back in agony, the dark grey tom wrenched away his remaining Force-Crystal and sent him flying into the wall next to Sunleap, knocking the young apprentice unconscious.

Birdclaw flicked an ear in resignation. “And so it ends,” he mewed for the second time.

Even as he did so, though, a diminutive figure padded into the chamber, but one seeming taller than all of them at that moment.

“Lightstar,” Birdclaw breathed.

“Birdclaw,” meowed Lightstar.

Birdclaw’s eyes widened and he stepped back, turning to face Lightstar directly. He deactivated his Force-Crystal and sheathed his claws, dipping his head in a formal manner. “You have interfered with our plans for the last time.”

A wave of Birdclaw’s right forepaw sent a piece from one of the tall stones flying at the diminutive LightClan leader, seeming as if it would surely crush him.

But Lightstar was ready, lifting his own right forepaw, Force-pushing the flying rubble harmlessly aside.

Birdclaw clutched up at the ceiling, breaking free great blocks that tumbled down at Lightstar.

But stubby forepaws waved and the debris dropped to the sides, bouncing across the ground all about the untouched Lightstar.

Birdclaw gave a little growl and extended his paw, loosing a line of blue lightning at the diminutive leader.

Lightstar caught it in his own paw and turned it aside, but far from easily.

“Powerful you have become, Birdclaw,” Lightstar admitted, and Birdclaw purred – but Lightstar promptly took that satisfaction away by adding, “The dark side I sense in you.”

“I have become more powerful than any LightClan cat,” Birdclaw countered. “Even you, my old mentor!”

More lightning poured forth from Birdclaw’s paw, but Lightstar continued to catch it and turn it, and seemed to become even more settled in his defensive posture.

“Much to learn you still have,” Lightstar remarked.

Birdclaw disengaged from the futile lightning assault. “It is obvious this contest will not be decided by our knowledge of the Force, but by our skills in proper battle.”

Lightstar reverently shifted into a fighting stance, activating the Force-Crystal at his right shoulder, causing his right fore-claws to glow bright green.

Birdclaw dipped his head politely, activating his own red Force-Crystal, but then, formalities over, he leapt at Lightstar, a sudden and devastating lunge.

But one that never got close to hitting. With hardly a movement, Lightstar turned the strike aside.

Birdclaw went into a wild flurry then, the likes of which he had not shown against Sunleap or Skypaw, raining blows at the diminutive tom. But Lightstar didn’t even seem to move. He didn’t step back or to the side, yet his subtle dodges and precision counters kept Birdclaw’s claws slashing harmlessly wide.

It went on for many heartbeats, but eventually Birdclaw’s flurry began to slow, and the dark grey tom, recognizing the futility of this attempt to overwhelm, stepped back fast.

Not fast enough.

With a sudden burst of sheer power, Lightstar flew forward, his blazing claws moving so mightily that their residual glow outshone even those of both of Skypaw’s glowing claws when he was at the peak of his dance. Birdclaw held strong, though, his red claws countering brilliantly, each block backed by the power of the Force, or else Lightstar’s strikes would have driven right through.

Just as he was about to launch a counter, though, Lightstar was gone, leaping high and twisting to land right behind Birdclaw, in perfect balance, striking hard.

Birdclaw spun about quickly, intercepting the blow. He lashed out but was unable to break through his opponent’s defense.

With a growl of rage, Birdclaw reached more deeply into the Force, letting it flow through him as if his physical form was a mere conduit for its power. His speed increased suddenly and dramatically, three steps forward, two back, perfectly balanced all the while. His fighting style was one based on balance, on the back-and-forth lunges, slashes and sudden retreats, and now he came at Lightstar with a series of cunning blows, angled left and right.

Never could he strike low, though, for never did Lightstar seem to be on the ground, leaping and spinning, flying all about, blocking each blow and offering cunning counters that had Birdclaw scrabbling backward desperately.

Birdclaw slashed up high, turning the angle in anticipation that Lightstar would dodge left. But Lightstar, as if in complete anticipation of the movement, veered neither left nor right, but rather, dropped to the ground. Birdclaw had already retracted the missed blow, and began a second, this time down low, but Lightstar had anticipated that, too, and went right back up behind the slashing claws.

A sudden lunge by Lightstar had Birdclaw quick-stepping back even more off-balance, for the first time, and then Lightstar flew away, up and back.

The furious Birdclaw pursued, lunging for Lightstar’s head. And in his rage when his lunge missed yet again, he reverted to a slashing attack.

Lightstar’s green claws caught the blow, holding the red at bay, locking the two in a contest of strength, physical and of the Force.

“Fought well, you have, my old apprentice,” Lightstar congratulated, and his paw began to move out, just a bit, forcing Birdclaw back.

“The battle is far from over!” Birdclaw stubbornly argued. “This is just the beginning!” Reaching into the Force, he took hold of one of the tall stones within the chamber and threw it down at Sunleap and Skypaw.

“Skypaw!” Sunleap cried. He grabbed at the plummeting stone with the Force, and Skypaw, startled awake, did so, as well. Even working together, they hadn’t the strength left to stop its crushing descent.

But Lightstar did.

Lightstar grabbed the stone and held it fast, but in doing so, he had to release Birdclaw. The dark grey tom wasted no time, racing away, leaping toward one of the other tunnels. As Lightstar began to move the fallen stone harmlessly aside, Birdclaw dove into the tunnel, and all three LightClan cats watched helplessly as he raced away and disappeared.

As Skypaw and Sunleap padded over to the exhausted Lightstar, Berryheart rushed in, running to Skypaw and pressing her nose into the sorely wounded young tom’s pelt desperately.

“A dark day, it is,” Lightstar mewed quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to drop comments and kudos below.
> 
> [Fun fact for those of you who might have been wondering: Lightstar is, in fact, based on a munchkin cat.]


	31. War of Rogues and Matters of Secrecy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this we are at the end of this fic.
> 
> Note that this is part of a double post, so go back and read the previous chapter first.

_One moon later…_

In the shadows along the outskirts of the Gathering Place, a dark grey tabby slipped gracefully from the trees, moving swiftly and silently as he snuck inside and made his way up one of the ruined dens.

Birdclaw climbed the last few fox-lengths and padded to the shadowy overhang at the top, where a hidden figure waited. He moved before the shadowy figure and lowered his head reverently.

“The Force is with us, Darkshadow.”

“Welcome home, Darkbird,” the DarkClan tom replied. “You have done well.”

“I bring you good news. The war has begun.”

“Excellent,” Darkshadow mewed, his gravelly voice hinting at a hiss. From the darkness he concealed himself with, the DarkClan cat’s blue eyes glittered in satisfaction. “Everything is going according to plan.”

Across the Gathering Place, in the somber LightClan camp, so many lamented the loss of friends and Clanmates. Sunleap and Violetlight stood staring out of a hole in the outer wall of Lightstar’s den while the diminutive leader sat on a patch of soft moss across the way, contemplating the troubling events.

“Do you believe what Birdclaw said about Darkshadow controlling the Tribe of Gathering?” Sunleap asked, breaking the contemplative silence. “It doesn’t feel right.”

Violetlight started to respond, but Lightstar interjected, “Become unreliable, Birdclaw has. Joined the dark side. Lies, deceit, creating mistrust are his ways now.”

“Nevertheless, I feel we should keep a close eye on the Great Gathering,” Violetlight put in, and Lightstar agreed.

After some more quiet contemplation, Violetlight turned a curious gaze upon Sunleap. “Where is Skystalker? I haven’t seen your former apprentice since his naming ceremony.”

“On his way to Green Trees,” Sunleap answered. “Escorting Berryheart and Redspot home with Bluestripe and Gold. Apparently Berryheart wishes to make Gold her mediator apprentice and he wished to be there.”

Violetlight dipped his head, and Sunleap caught a glimmer of concern in his dark eyes – concern that Sunleap shared about Skystalker and Berryheart. They let it go at that time, though, for there seemed greater problems at paw. Again, it was Sunleap who broke the silence.

“I have to admit, without the rogues, it would not have been a victory.”

“Victory?” Lightstar echoed with great skepticism. “Victory, you say?”

Sunleap and Violetlight turned as one to the great LightClan tom, catching clearly the profound sadness in his tone.

“Young Sunleap, not victory,” Lightstar went on. “The shroud of the dark side has fallen. Begun, this War of Rogues has!”

His pronouncement hung in the air about them, thick with emotion and concern, as dire a prediction as any cat in LightClan’s Council had ever uttered.

Balefur and Loudear flanked Foxstar as he stood on a large ledge, overlooking the Tribe’s new army. Below them, hundreds of rogue-warriors moved in tight formations, an orderly procession as they moved toward the area designated for their dens.

A deep sadness marked the handsome features of Balefur, but when he looked over at the Tribe leader, he saw in the ginger tom’s blue eyes a grim determination.

In the main ForestClan camp, a yellow tom stood nervously before Forestspeaker. Out of the corner of his eye, Gold could clearly see his friends, Bluestripe and Berryheart, and his beloved brother, Skystalker. The encouragement in their eyes eased his heart enough to focus on the she-cat before him.

Forestspeaker met his amber eyes with her green ones. “Gold, you have shown yourself to have a true Clan cat’s heart, and you have expressed your wish to join ForestClan as one of us. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Goldpaw. Berryheart has already requested to be your mentor. I know that she will pass down all she knows to you.” She turned and beckoned the white she-cat forward. “Berryheart, you are more than ready to take on an apprentice. You had received excellent training from Palestep, and you have shown yourself to be brave, loyal, and determined. You will be a great mentor to Goldpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to him.”

Mentor and apprentice touched noses as all of ForestClan chanted, “Goldpaw! Goldpaw! Goldpaw! Goldpaw!”

The sun was beginning to set as Berryheart raced Skystalker to the lake. Goldpaw and Bluestripe trailed behind them to ensure no other cats would happen by. At the lake’s edge, they stopped and sat on a flat rock, looking out over the shimmering lake.

The she-cat turned to gaze at the young warrior sitting beside her, who, in turn, gazed back at her. He had been nervous, she remembered, when he had admitted to her the full damage the treacherous Birdclaw had inflicted upon his right eye. Looking at the scar that crossed the right side of his face, at the cloudiness of the now-useless eye, she found him just as handsome now as she had before. She was not afraid to admit it now.

Skystalker leaned forward and rested his chin on Berryheart’s head, the warmest and most loving of purrs vibrating in his chest and hers as she tucked her head comfortably beneath his. Their tails twisted together, binding them together almost as close as their hearts.

With only their two closest friends as witnesses, despite knowing the full implications of this choice, Berryheart and Skystalker quietly swore to be mates. Giving into their hearts fully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to give you guys a heads-up, I am going to be taking a brief hiatus (probably about two weeks) before moving on to Episode 3 of this series. Keep an eye out!


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